


For Her Eyes Only

by GreatestChange



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: Age Difference, Artist!Asami, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, Light Angst, Model!Korra, Mutual Pining, Nude Modeling, Romance, Self-Acceptance, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-24
Updated: 2020-10-08
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:01:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 36,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24869590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreatestChange/pseuds/GreatestChange
Summary: Asami, an upcoming artist with promise, faces her biggest challenge yet when she’s given a project to draw a nude model. However, the challenge isn’t the project itself. It’s the growing tension between her and her model that threatens to expose the part of herself she wants to resist.
Relationships: Korra/Asami Sato
Comments: 235
Kudos: 1147





	1. La Maja Desnuda

A bead of sweat rolled down Asami’s forehead as she sat up straight on her stool, her pencil tapping against her large easel pad held up by the table easel. Even as a California native, the heat could be too intense for her sometimes. It neared the end of September, but she knew the harsh summer heat would overstay its welcome.

Kya’s Art & Supply sat just on the outskirts of UCLA campus, located between a nail salon and an ice cream parlor. It was a decent size with two floors: the lower floor being the actual store, and the upper part being the studio that people could rent out for classes or private sessions. It may as well have been Asami’s second home from how often she scheduled her sessions. If she wasn’t working or in class, she’d be up in the studio hard at work on whatever art project she invested herself in at the time.

She’d been calling herself an artist since the moment she learned how to use a pencil. Anything fascinating to her she would draw as if it were the most important thing in the world. The colors, the detail, the shapes… It all stuck to her mind, unwilling to loosen its grip until she finally put the image to paper.

Unfortunately — for her parents, at least — she never grew out of it.

She heard footsteps ascending the staircase and turned. Kya walked up, struggling with a strobe light and a large roll of seamless, white paper.

“Need some help?” Asami asked, not waiting for an answer and immediately getting up to assist Kya.

“Thank you very much,” Kya said in relief. They walked over to an area of the studio that, for some mysterious reason, had been cleared out. “Are you ready for your super secret project?”

“I can’t afford not to be, can I?” Asami usually did one session with Kya a week after her shift in the shop ended. Sometimes she needed it just for the extra practice, but other times it would just be her and her former art professor having an hour long painting session and talking about their favorite artwork or some exciting new piece they were working on.

Kya smiled, her eyes squinting in the way they always did whenever she had something up her sleeve.

“Let’s get this set up, shall we?” she asked.

“Sure, but for what exactly?”

“I’m going to keep it a surprise for a little while longer.”

“Should I be scared?”

“Yes and no. What’s that new word your generation likes to throw around these days? ‘Shook?’”

“Oh God,” Asami giggled and covered her face in embarrassment. “Kya, the boomer in you jumped out.”

“Hey, I’m _not_ that old, so I resent that.” Kya placed a hand on her hip. Then her facial expression softened and she gave Asami an encouraging pat on the shoulder. “Come on, let’s hurry before your private session starts. Just trust me, okay?”

Asami nodded. Never in the past four years had she not trusted Kya. The woman believed in her more than anyone else did as an artist, saw her talent, encouraged her to embrace it, and took Asami under her wing when she dropped out of the Chemistry program and changed her major to art, thus effectively ruining her relationship with her parents forever. She didn’t blame or hate them in any way. A lot of their money went down the drain for the two and half years she spent trying to become a pharmacist. That meant another four years as an undergraduate and two years as a grad student. Asami would’ve been more surprised if they actually went along with her decision and continued paying for her tuition.

It wasn’t easy, and sometimes she still wondered if she made the right choice, but then she’d sign her name at the end of a long art project and all of that doubt washed away. In her 25 years of existence, she finally took a chance on herself and couldn’t foresee herself ever looking back with regret.

They set up the miniature photography studio within the next 10 minutes and sat down afterward.

“Perfect,” Kya clapped in celebration and then looked down at her watch. “We finished right on time, too.”

“Great, so now can you tell me what all of this is about?” Asami asked.

Kya gave an impish smile. “Well, as my apprentice and colleague, you know very well that I’m invited to notorious galas all over the world.”

“Yes, I’m very aware,” Asami answered. She tried not to get too excited, swallowing down her initial excitement. Kya was renowned in the artist industry for her watercolor pieces, winning several awards and being showcased in popular art museums and art shows all over the world.

“And that every year I select one upcoming artist in the grad school program to create a new piece for the art show of my choosing...”

“Yes…”

Kya grinned. “This year, I’ve decided that I would like you to accompany me to a showcasing in Madrid.”

Asami squealed and pulled Kya into a hug, squeezing the life out of her.

“Really? Are you being serious right now?” she asked.

“I wouldn’t lie to you, would I?” Kya said. She pulled away, still smiling but with tears in her eyes. “You’ve worked so hard over the years, and any art piece you’ve made has been met with such high praise. I’m proud of you for being so brave and risking everything just to do what makes you happy. You’ve _earned_ this.”

Asami beamed back at her, almost on the verge of tears herself.

“I never would've made it this far without you. Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet.” Kya held up her finger, her expression turning serious. “You’ve got a lot of work to do before this show, and you only have a little under two months to complete your piece.”

“Which show?”

“Actually, it’s the International Contemporary Art Fair.”

“Holy crap, Kya!” Asami’s widened. “How did you manage that? Aren’t all applications due by the beginning of September?”

“Yup! Which is exactly why I already signed you up.”

“Holy crap!” Asami said again. 

“I know! It’s a trade show, too, so there will be a bunch of high-profile people there. That’s an awesome opportunity to network.”

“Wow, that’s amazing.” Asami’s eyes lit up. Unexpectedly, another round of footsteps came from behind them and she quickly turned around. As far as she knew, the shop was closed for the rest of the night.

“Don’t worry, dear,” Kya said, holding her by the shoulders. “This is also part of the surprise.”

A woman appeared at the top of the staircase, short tendrils of hair flying from her bun as she ascended in a hurried manner. A gym bag dangled from her shoulder.

“Hey! I’m not late, am I?” she asked.

“Just in time, actually,” Kya said, stepping around Asami to walk over to the woman. Then she turned. “Asami, I would like to introduce you to Korra. She’s an undergrad at UCLA and will be your inspiration for this project you’re working on.”

Asami stared at the woman for several seconds, recognizing her face but unable to put her finger on it.

“What kind of project is it?” she asked, sounding slightly distracted.

“You’ll be doing a nude oil painting of her.”

Asami blinked, still not quite putting two and two together, but when she did, she couldn’t hide her look of surprise.

“I’m what?”

“I pick a theme every year for my students, and this year the theme will be ‘The Body is Art.’ You already know one of my favorite pieces ever is—”

 _“La Maja Desnuda,”_ Asami spoke quietly.

“Yup. So it’s only fitting that I pair you with this theme.”

“I…” Asami started, speechless. “I don’t know what to say…” There were too many things going through her mind at once. She couldn’t process them all.

“I must’ve come in at the wrong time,” Korra said when Asami remained silent.

“No, you’re fine,” Kya said, wrapping an arm around Korra's broad shoulders. “Asami’s done one or two nude pieces before in the past, but she’s never worked with a live model before,” Kya explained. “I wanted to challenge her with something a little outside of her comfort zone. Are you okay to work on this project, Asami?”

At the question, Asami snapped out of it and nodded.

“Of course,” she said.

“Great!” Kya smiled encouragingly. “I’m giving you free reign to draw whatever you like just as long as it fits the theme and that she’s nude in the photo. You guys will have one required session a week for the rest of the semester, or however long it takes for you to be satisfied with the piece. I highly suggest fitting more in when you can, because before you can get to the actual final painting there’s one step you’ll need to go through first, and pass.”

“A step?” Asami asked.

“Yes. I want you to provide me with a sketch. It has to prove to me that you’ve really taken the time to get to know the body and face you’re working with. Once approved, you can begin your greyscale and then move on to color. Again, you’re welcome to rent out the studio for more sessions if you need to. You’d only need to correlate with Korra’s schedule first.”

“Right…”

Kya walked over to Asami again and gently grabbed both of her wrists.

“You’ll do just fine,” she said. “Spend these first sessions just taking in this woman. By the end of this project, I want you to know every detail, every curve, and every flaw.”

“I’m not good with female anatomy,” Asami admitted, giving her teacher a desperate, knowing look. The past nude paintings that Kya spoke of were of men only.

“I know. And that’s why I wanted to challenge you. As a woman yourself, I think it would be an incredible disservice to not try and overcome this struggle. There’s a level of intimacy that comes with something like this that you’ll need to develop first before you can put together a hard piece such as this. Get to truly _know_ her, and then be able to show who she is in your final interpretation.”

After squeezing Asami’s wrists, Kya let go and turned around, headed toward the staircase.

“I’ll be leaving in an hour, so call me if you need anything. Asami, make sure you lock the shop up well tonight. And Korra, thank you again for doing this. I greatly appreciate it and I’m looking forward to seeing the end product.”

“No problem. But are you sure you don’t want to stay? I’m pretty marveling to look at.” Korra gave her a saucy look.

“I just gave you praise, don’t ruin it,” Kya said, narrowing her eyes and walking down the steps, leaving the two of them alone.

“Your loss,” Korra muttered. She turned to Asami and regarded her for a second. “So, you’re a grad student, huh?”

“I am,” Asami confirmed. She started messing around with the strobe, unsure of what to do now. Kya practically fed her to the wolves, an approach Asami became quite familiar with as more years went by. As much as Kya could show her catering, motherly side, when it came to art she showed the tough love needed to pull masterpieces out of young, rising artists. Asami both respected and feared it.

Kya wouldn’t have given this assignment to her if she didn’t believe Asami could handle it. The payoff afterward would mean plenty of new opportunities falling on her doorstep. She wouldn’t give that up for anything, not even if it meant having to jump over this hurdle. So for both hers and Kya’s sake, she would try.

“Why don’t we sit down for a minute?” she suggested, pointing over to the table nearby.

“Sure.”

Asami went over first, feeling Korra’s eyes on her as she walked. Rather than thinking about it, she grabbed her backpack, pulling out a sheet of notebook paper and a pencil. After that she turned and sat down, finding Korra already seated there, hands stuffed into the pockets of her shorts and one foot poked out. In terms of physique, she looked very healthy, and given the definition and tone in her arms just from folding them, she worked out a lot.

Asami, realizing she’d been staring, looked up and found Korra staring back, half of a smile appearing at the corner of her mouth, undoubtedly noticing the way Asami looked at her.

Asami cleared her throat. “Why don’t we start with you just telling me who you are?”

“Okay. Well, I’m a junior at UCLA; I’m turning 22 in a few months; I’m a double major in nutrition and sign language, and the reason those are my majors is because I’m a health nut and I want to help enrich other people’s lives, however many people I can no matter the obstacles, I guess.”

Asami wrote it all down, along with a couple of other things she noticed, like the way Korra talked using her hands, the way she awkwardly rubbed the back of her neck (a nervous habit?), and how her eyebrows furrowed as she thought hard about her answer.

“How do you know Kya?” Asami asked.

“Oh, her wife, Lin, is my best friend’s aunt. She told me that Kya was looking for a female student to do this project, and she knew that I needed the money, so it just ended up working out.”

Asami nodded. She’d met Opal Beifong before. Quite a few times, actually, when Kya would invite her over for dinner. But she never recalled Korra’s name being mentioned. Or maybe she just hadn’t been paying attention.

“Are you active in any sports? You look like you work out a lot,” Asami pointed out, keeping her head low in case she caught a smug look on Korra’s face.

“No, I uh… I mean, yeah, I did before. I used to run on the track team.”

Asami looked up when she noticed the nervous stammering, and then it suddenly hit her.

“Oh, of course. I thought you looked familiar. I didn’t catch many meets during my undergrad, but I do remember seeing you on a lot of athletic posters and calendars.”

Korra didn’t just run on the track team. She was the _star_ of the track team, breaking many records and bringing their school all the way to nationals. Even if you lived in a hole, it was impossible not to at least have heard Korra’s name muttered in the distance.

Having given her recognition, Asami would’ve thought that Korra would show some form of excitement. Instead she seemed to grow quieter and less animated.

“Yeah. That was me,” she said, looking down at the table and playing with the flaps of one of Asami’s folders that’d been left out.

From that response, Asami could tell she hit a sore subject. For what reason she was unsure of, but if it caused Korra to be upset then she wouldn’t ask.

“Is there anything you want to know about me?” she offered.

“Why can’t you draw nude women?”

Asami faltered, opening and closing her mouth as she tried to find a response to the immediate question. Korra waited there for an answer as if she had all the time in the world. It was clear tit for tat.

“It’s not that I _can’t_ draw nude women,” Asami spoke defensively. “I just have a hard time with it. Every artist has their weak points.”

Korra nodded, eyeing her again with those piercing eyes that rivaled the clearest of oceans. If she were to be honest with herself, Asami didn’t have a good explanation for her problem. She could draw a male nude without so much as batting an eyelash, but the female figure intimidated her greatly.

Korra leaned forward, resting her arm on the table, just a couple of inches away from Asami’s.

“I’m honored to be your first then,” she said, her eyes brimming with truth, and yet something so subtle remained hidden underneath.

Asami watched her, eyes tracing over her face, picking out all of the many complementary features. There were so many, and yet Kya somehow expected her to find flaws.

“We, uh, should probably get started,” she said, rising up from her chair.

As she began to set up her easel and organize her pencils, the nagging feeling of Korra’s eyes remaining on her never went away. She wondered if this, too, was another added layer of Kya’s challenge. A cheeky undergrad who liked to make people flustered? If that happened to be the case, then it would be a long semester.

After messing with some of the lighting and closing the window blinds, she moved a stool on top of the seamless paper that she and Kya taped down to the floor.

“Okay, I think we’re ready,” she said. Then she turned back and looked at Korra who’d just been standing there, still fully clothed.

Korra seemed to realize at the same time what last step needed to be taken and chuckled to herself.

“Well I guess I should get rid of these,” she said, pointing down to her clothes.

“You can change in the bathroom and I can give you a robe if you want…”

“No, I’m fine. Unless you’re uncomfortable with me just doing it right here?”

“Um, no. N-not at all,” Asami said, inwardly cursing at how weird she sounded. Kya expected professionalism and that didn’t sound like it.

“Okay,” Korra said. She walked over by where everything was set up and started removing her shoes. The minute she began to lift her shirt, Asami turned away.

 _What is wrong with me?_ She asked herself when she realized how fast her heart pounded. In the background, she could still hear Korra casually removing her clothes, her shirt and shorts falling to the floor. She tried to distract herself by counting the number of paint brushes nearby.

A minute later, everything went still.

“I’m ready,” Korra announced.

Asami took a deep breath and nodded. “Right.”

She could do this. She _could_ do this.

Asami turned around.

Her lungs caught in her throat.

Korra stood there under the scrutinizing light with no sign of intimidation on her face. Asami focused on that fact first, but then her eyes lowered.

Korra had a phenomenal body. Tight, lithe, and shaped in all of the right places. There were so many muscles! Her abs weren’t too prominent, but they had the right amount of definition. The same with her legs. Her breasts sat high on her chest, her dark nipples still soft. Once they were exposed to the air and the fan nearby, Asami imagined them hardening to their peaks.

And last but not least, Asami couldn’t stop herself even if she tried from noticing the small patch of hair between Korra’s legs, her vagina soft and well groomed. She had half the mind to ask where Korra went to get waxed.

“Am I sitting or standing?”

Her eyes lifted at the sound of Korra’s voice.

“Sitting for now,” Asami said, noticing the dry feeling in her mouth.

Korra nodded and grabbed the stool, bringing it with her to the middle.

All of that admiring Asami did from the front, she forgot that Korra had a back. A good back at that. More muscles and tone, her skin so smooth and enriched. Her apple shaped ass even flexed as she walked...

Asami shook herself out of it. She walked over to her easel and pulled it closer to the photo studio, along with a chair. She could see Korra getting herself situated as well, figuring out which pose she would do first.

Asami grabbed a pencil and tapped it against the easel. The blank page in front of her never looked more unnerving.

Who the hell was she kidding? She _couldn’t_ do this.

“Are you ready, Asami?”

Asami lifted her head. Korra settled with a natural pose, her ankles crossed, back straight, and hands in her lap. She spoke in such a calming and reassuring manner, which Asami found to be absurd given that _she_ should’ve been the one doing that. Korra’s eyes held hers for a long time, clearly waiting for an answer, but something about her expression told Asami that she could see right through her, and Asami didn’t like that at all.

“Yes,” she answered quietly.

* * *

The next three hours felt like torture. Korra did a series of poses, both sitting and standing every twenty minutes, and then they would take a short break after 45 minutes. For the first hour, Asami found herself erasing more than she did drawing even when there’d been nothing more to erase. Occasionally she would mutter things to herself, questioning whether a line or curve looked right and then ultimately deciding it didn’t. Kya only came to check on them once before she left, only repeating her earlier advice about “intimacy” or whatever. What did intimacy have to do with any of this, anyway? How would learning about Korra’s time as a track star help Asami with drawing her nude? She couldn’t wrap her head around it, even if she studied plenty of famous artists in the past with similar methods Kya referred to.

“Dammit,” she said, erasing another line in frustration.

“Do you want to take another break?” she heard Korra ask.

“No, I’m fine,” Asami said, still erasing.

“Can I take another break then?”

Sighing, Asami rubbed a hand over her face. “Yeah. Sure.”

Korra got up and grabbed the robe she brought with her from her gym bag and put it on, then she reached for her phone nearby and started texting someone.

Asami kept her focus, studying what she had so far, but all she could see were crooked lines, wonky proportions, and alignment issues.

She heard the sound of Korra’s bare feet padding against the hardwood floor as she walked over.

“Am I allowed to look?” she asked.

Asami looked up. Korra kept her arms crossed around her. The blue silk of the robe matched her eyes. She stared down at Asami in pure curiosity.

“I don’t see why you wouldn’t be,” Asami said, pulling away from the easel.

Korra’s eyes brightened and she quickly came around to stand behind Asami.

“Wow,” she said. “You’re pretty good.”

“It’s only a rough sketch, and it’s of your face,” Asami pointed out, annoyed at being given such a compliment despite the mediocrity she showcased.

“Well, I know my face very well, and I think it’s good. Look, you even got this scar that I got from a surfing accident when I was a kid.” Korra reached over her, pointing at the barely visible mark that sat at the corner of her forehead.

Asami couldn’t pay attention properly. The only thing she could take out the conversation was that Korra hovered over her, her body warm and vanilla scent strong.

“You wouldn’t get it,” Asami said, fumbling with her pencils.

“Why? Because I’m not an artist?” Korra asked, moving away. Asami instantly breathed out.

“Maybe,” she answered.

“I may not be an artist, but I pick up on things easily. I said your drawing is good, but I think I know what would make it better.”

“And what’s that?”

“If you actually looked at me for more than five seconds.”

Asami quieted, keeping her face forward even though every part of her wanted to turn around and stare at Korra in both puzzlement and anger. She had a feeling that she’d be met with a smirk anyway. Because in any way Asami would try to spin it, they both knew Korra was right. She could only count on one hand the amount of times she looked up at her model each hour.

“We should probably stop for today,” she announced, gathering her pencils and standing up.

“We still have another 30 minutes left,” Korra said.

“We can make it up another time.”

Asami went and turned off the strobe light and moved it up against the wall. While adjusting it, she noticed Korra walk over to the opposite side of the seamless paper and grab her clothes. Without a word, she let the robe drop to the floor and started putting her clothes back on, stepping into her shorts one leg at a time, then pulling the shirt over her head. Neither underwear or bra were in sight.

Before she could even recognize her gawking, Korra turned, her eyes lifting and catching Asami’s. The room went as still as Asami’s body. She wanted to look away—tried to—but something about Korra’s domineering gaze trapped her there for several seconds.

When time moved again, she saw the way Korra’s eyes scanned over her, unabashed as they rose and fell once. Twice. Three times.

Asami swallowed and looked away. She walked over and started stuffing her things in her bookbag.

“Are you doing anything tonight?” Korra asked. “I’m pretty famished.”

“I have to get home and grade papers,” Asami replied, her tone curt.

“Oh… I didn’t know you were a teacher as well.”

“Teaching assistant.”

Asami pulled her keys out of her bag and turned around. She found Korra watching her.

“Maybe we can do a raincheck next time, then?” Korra asked, walking toward her and stopping a few feet away. “Since I’m such a noob at art, I’d love to hear an expert’s take on things.”

Asami gripped the strap of her bag with both hands, her knuckles going white. She couldn’t pinpoint her feelings, but it grew entirely frustrating being under such a perusing look.

“We’ll have to do at least two days a week,” Asami said, blatantly ignoring Korra’s invitation. She reached into the pocket of her bag and pulled out a business card. “Here. That has my work and cell number on it. Give me a call later on this week so we can correlate a schedule moving forward.”

Korra took it from her hands, staring down at it momentarily. When she looked up, she gave Asami a smile.

“Expect to hear from me soon, then,” she said.

Asami gave a short nod and started walking to the stairs, expecting Korra to follow her after she turned out the light. Once they got outside the shop, Asami locked it up tight and entered the security code. The twilight hour cast dark shadows over everything, but even with the lack of visible sun, Asami never felt hotter.

She heard the sound of a chain rustling and looked over. Korra unchained a bike from the nearby rack and hopped on it. She then rode up to Asami and stopped just in front of her.

“Guess this is goodbye for now,” she said.

“Bye.”

Korra didn’t seem at all intimidated by Asami’s terse response. In fact, she smiled.

“Like I said, I’m honored to be your first,” she said and, without waiting for a response, sped off down the sidewalk.

Asami stood there, cheeks blazing red, and an intense mixture of shock, awe, and unexpected _yearning_ rushing to her core.

**TBC...**


	2. Scars

Asami rubbed the aches in her neck as she headed up the steps leading to the art studio. After a long day of classes (both teaching and attending), she needed to let off some steam and do some painting without any interruptions.

“‘Bout time you showed up.”

Asami immediately became alert, looking in the direction of that tantalizing voice.

Korra sat there patiently on a stool, hands folded in her lap. But that didn’t shock Asami nearly as much as the sight of Korra sitting there dressed in only her robe.

“What are you doing here?” Asami asked, stepping forward with caution. “We haven’t scheduled another session yet.”

“Yeah, well my class ended early and I just decided to pop over here and see if you’d be up for it. Kya said it would be all right to wait up here.”

Asami rolled her eyes. Her teacher seemed to love making decisions for her lately.

“I’m not sure if I’m in the mood for this,” she answered honestly, turning her back to Korra as she sat her bag down on the table and pulled her special pencils and brushes out. When she didn’t receive a response back, she turned, almost jumping back when she noticed Korra standing behind her now. “Do you mind?”

Korra chuckled, a low, throaty kind of chuckle that made the hair on the back of Asami’s neck stand up. “You’ve really got to relax, you know?”

“I _am_ relaxed.”

“And you’ve got to stop being so argumentative.” Korra stepped forward, bare feet padding against the floor. “Why don’t you tell me what’s really on your mind?”

“Nothing.” Asami looked away. “I’m fine. Maybe I just don’t want you so close to me.”

She gasped when fingers held her chin and pulled her face forward. The smirk she received irked her, and yet a surprising feeling of warmth spread in the lower depths of her abdomen.

“You sure about that?” Korra whispered, leaning forward and lightly pressing their lips together.

Every part of Asami, including her brain, ceased to function. She could only feel Korra’s lips on hers, pressing and prying, her tongue slipping inside, a taste so sweet...

A few delayed seconds later, Asami lurched back, bumping into the table behind her and causing her pencils and brushes to fall to the floor.

“W-What the hell are you doing!” she shouted in outrage.

“Helping you relax,” Korra answered calmly, moving forward again.

Asami tried to back up, but she’d been effectively trapped between Korra and the table.

“This is highly inappropriate,” she stammered, however she didn’t flinch when Korra took hold of her by the waist and pressed their bodies together. She stared up at Asami with an imploring look.

“It’s okay. It’s just us here. No one has to know.” Leaning forward, she captured Asami’s lips again in a slow but very eager kiss, and for some reason, Asami responded to it. It was offbeat to have such soft lips on hers, to have Korra’s hands on her body, to do the same in return; to lose control of herself rather easily.

After a few minutes of kissing and exploring, Korra’s robe came undone, and she wasted no time removing Asami’s clothes either with Asami’s added help. Korra bent her knees and grabbed Asami by the legs, wrapping them around her thick waist, causing Asami’s ankles to dig into the dimples of her lower back. Asami’s thighs squeezed around the athlete’s tapered waist, forcing their fronts to come in contact for the first time and they both instantly moaned into each other’s mouths, which had not parted once during all of the commotion.

With one arm, Korra quickly wiped all of the needless junk off the table behind them and spread Asami across it. After pulling apart, she leaned over Asami, staring down at her with such loving eyes that caused Asami’s heart to skip several beats. Then she brought her hand to Asami’s cheek and tenderly brushed it with the back of her hand.

“Have you ever done this before?” she asked. When Asami shook her head nervously, Korra smiled and leaned down, her lips brushing against the shell of Asami’s ear. “That’s okay. I’m honored to be your first.”

Korra kissed her one more time and then moved down Asami’s body, lowering until she came between Asami’s thighs, her breath tickling Asami’s pussy as she leaned forward and—

Asami sat forward in bed, her breath coming out in heavy pants. Her eyes darted around the dark area in a panic, but she began to calm down after discovering that she was, in fact, in her bedroom. She reached for her phone that she misplaced somewhere in the bed during the night and found it under the pillows. Checking it, she saw that it was only just a few minutes ‘til three in the morning, meaning she’d only been asleep for two hours max.

Brushing the hair out of her face, she brought her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. Whether she opened or closed her eyes, it didn’t stop the vivid images of the dream from flashing in every corner of her mind. The way her body reacted—how it _still_ reacted.

She squeezed her thighs together, hoping it would erase the tingly sensation that shot through them. Never before had she experienced a dream like that: one that felt so real. From the touches to the kisses to the fruitful _passion_. It all seeped into her brain, determined to leave a long-lasting stain.

She grabbed the sides of her head, clutching her hair.

 _No, no, no,_ she thought. This couldn’t happen. Never in her life did she reject something so much that it made her want to vomit. She wanted to erase it, tilt her head to the side and force the images out with a limitless amount of hits by her own hand.

This wouldn’t have happened if she just rejected the project in the first place. But no, she just _had_ to prove something to Kya, like always, didn’t she? She wasn’t even that into drawing nude art anyway. It’d been a new avenue presented to her at the time and she took it head on, determined to prove her capability to her mentor. Now, it sorely came back to bite her.

Taking a couple of deep breaths, she dropped her hands from her hair and fell back into the bed.

There had to be some loophole. Some way she could get through this project in the most painless way possible. She didn’t know how, but she had the rest of the night to figure it out.

* * *

Early the next morning, Asami walked into Kya’s office located in the School of Art and Architecture. She found her mentor at her desk engrossed in the school newspaper as she took a sip from her coffee mug.

“Oh, good morning, Asami,” Kya said, though she never glanced up from the paper once. “Ready to teach one of the most fun lessons with me today?”

Asami squared her shoulders and walked up to the desk. She slapped her sketchpad down in front of Kya.

“Here.”

“And what’s that?” Kya asked, still reading.

“The sketch you asked for. I’m finished.”

“You are?” Kya finally pulled the paper away from her face and looked up, one of her eyebrows quirking. She picked up the sketchpad and gave it a look.

Asami watched her glance over the sketch and clutched the strap of her bag. After waking up in the middle of the night and not being able to return to sleep, she decided that the best course of action would be to draw the sketch to the best of her ability with textbook knowledge instead, tweaking it slightly to fit the image she could just barely reference back to. It was only a sketch, after all. She could give herself a few days to gather her wits again and then jump back into the actual project, only with a bigger guard up moving forward.

Kya sighed and put the sketchpad down.

“I already spoke to Korra this morning,” she announced, folding her hands neatly over top of the desk. “She left not too long ago, actually.”

Asami tensed, her heartbeat quickening. “What did she say?”

“She said you cut the class early.”

“Only by thirty minutes.”

“Thirty more minutes you could’ve used apparently.” Kya sent a shady glance down to the sketchpad. “Care to explain your reasoning?”

Asami's ground her teeth. It was futile to think that even with her skills she could get one over on one of the greatest artists this generation had to offer. She folded her arms. “Why? You obviously know the truth since Korra couldn’t wait to tell you all about it.”

“I asked her to meet with me. I wanted to get her honest opinion given that she’s the model and I want her to be comfortable.”

“Is that not the case?” Asami asked, ashamed of how anxious she sounded.

“No, she actually likes it a lot, said she ‘feels liberated.’ She likes you, too, though she did preface that by saying you seemed a little tightly wound.”

Asami snorted and looked away. “What could she possibly know about me? We’ve only known each other for a total of two and a half hours.”

“You hit the nail right on its head. So I guess it goes without saying why I can’t accept this from you.” Kya slid the sketchpad across her desk. “I already reserved the studio for you tonight to make up for last night’s setback. Korra said she doesn’t have any scheduling conflicts, so there shouldn’t be an issue.”

“And if I already had plans?” Asami asked.

“Did you?”

A part of Asami really wanted to say yes, but instead she sighed in defeat.

“Are you sure I’m the artist you want for this?” she asked.

“Yes, _I’m_ sure of that. That’s a question you should be asking yourself. I call you my pupil, my protege, my disciple. I wouldn’t have given this huge project to you if I didn’t think you would benefit from it artistically and personally.”

“Personally?” Asami questioned. Her stomach leaped into her throat at the knowing look in Kya’s eyes.

“The human body is a magnificent thing that you shouldn’t be afraid to explore no matter its parts. I’m not trying to torture you with this assignment, truly. I just don’t want you to let this be something that holds you back from being extraordinary.”

“I don’t see how you think something like this holds me back,” Asami muttered, unable to meet Kya’s gaze.

“Who knows? Maybe I’m wrong?” Kya leaned back in her chair, folding her hands behind her head. “Or perhaps the reason you’re unable to see it is because you don’t want to.”

There was an unpleasant feeling that pierced a hole in Asami’s chest and, with it, all of the contents inside leaked out onto the table for Kya’s display.

“Anyway, we’d better get going,” Kya said, grabbing a book and her purse. “Portrait Painting can’t teach itself.” She paused briefly as she walked by to give Asami’s shoulder a firm squeeze, then she left without another word.

Asami couldn’t bring herself to move for a long time.

* * *

For rest of the day Asami spent it mentally preparing herself for the evening. After calming down and gaining a bit of perspective, she couldn’t forget her ultimate goal: to have her art showcased in front of a room of high-profile people and get her foot in the door. She couldn’t let Kya’s perceptive words or Korra’s _anything_ bother her.

She set the studio up the way she wanted it and sat there near an open window where a small breeze came through. It was still bright out and the street bustled with people shop hopping and waiting outside the door of popular restaurants for dinner. As it just so happened, after denying she had plans, her roommate Zhu Li invited her out to a party with some TA’s in the science program that Asami used to be close with. It saddened her that she had to decline given how desperately she could’ve used a drink.

Several minutes passed until she heard the sound of footsteps ascending the stairs. With a deep breath, she stood up from her position and closed the blinds.

“It’s so pretty up here in the evening,” she heard Korra say from behind her as she reached the top of the steps.

Turning, Asami looked around the room, acknowledging the sun's rays reflecting through the glass ceiling. Whenever she lacked inspiration, all she would need to do was sit in the middle of the floor and look up.

“It’s even better at night,” she offered quietly and turned around, retreating back to where she’d set up. The quiet that followed after created apprehension and a slight bit of tension—though, the latter could’ve been from Asami’s side.

“I talked to Kya this morning,” Korra said a minute later.

“I’m aware.”

“Oh, really?” Korra asked, sounding nonplussed. “I didn’t think she’d tell you.”

“Well, she did.” Asami opened a drawer on her easel a little harsher than necessary and pulled out some pencils.

“She must’ve mentioned the ‘tightly wound’ part.”

“Look, can we just focus on the project, please?” Asami said, looking back in clear annoyance. “Whatever you think of me has no relevance, and I really don’t care.”

“Hey now,” Korra held her hands up in defense. “Why don’t you relax a little bit?”

Asami’s eyes widened, those words triggering the metaphorical foot on her hippocampus to press down and unlock those several images she’d unsuccessfully stored away.

She looked at Korra—really looked at her—for the first time since she arrived. Bright blue eyes stared back, unflinching.

“Are you okay?” Korra asked, a worry line beginning to show on her forehead. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Asami snapped out of it and turned.

“Let’s just get started,” she mumbled, taking her seat.

A lull of silence transpired between them, but Asami kept her eyes trained forward, even when she heard the sound of Korra unzipping her shorts and the ruffling of her other clothes as they came off. A second later, she stepped under the warm lights in nude galore. Deciding to go with a standing pose first, she raised both arms over her head and put one foot in front of the other. Her face softened into a look of innocence as she stared up at nothing.

Asami tried not to squirm. On instinct, she wanted to look away, but she fought the urge. She kept her face neutral as her eyes roamed up and down Korra’s figure. This was the first step she needed to overcome. The human body wasn’t supposed to be sexualized; she knew. Kya drilled it into her brain well enough for her to remember what should’ve been universal knowledge. Everyone’s body, from how they stood to the scars they carried on their skin, told a story. So rather than only looking at a naked body, she needed to find the story behind it as well. At least, she hoped that’s what Kya meant.

She didn’t immediately reach for her pencil and instead continued to stare. While the pose looked good, something about it seemed off. There was something else she needed.

Standing up, she walked closer and stopped a few feet away. Korra remained frozen and didn’t even spare her a glance.

Ah.

“Look at me,” Asami said.

Korra didn’t act immediately, though an indiscernible look appeared for only a moment until finally their eyes locked. Again, Asami had to keep herself from looking away, but Korra’s piercing gaze made it harder. Being up close also gave her a better look at Korra’s body too. Her skin looked just as smooth and enriched, though the hard muscles contradicted that assessment. Her shoulders appeared even broader, like tiny boulders that complemented her strong arms.

After gathering that information, she went back to her seat and picked up her pencil. She started with the simple outline of Korra’s head, knowing that would be the easiest part. She became quite familiar with Korra’s face, noting both sides had symmetry, which was something she’d never seen before, and her bone structure was striking on its own. Like yesterday, Asami could’ve spent the entire class simply drawing Korra’s face, but Kya’s look of disappointment hung over her head, forcing her to move on. A sketch didn’t have to be perfect. It just needed to show accuracy, Asami’s attention to detail, and an actual effort.

Every 15 minutes she would tell Korra to switch up poses, and Korra obliged. However, in each pose she didn’t keep her eyes off of Asami, causing their eyes to meet on several occasions. It was awkward at first, but the more Asami got into it, the less she cared or remembered _why_ it felt awkward for her to begin with.

At one point, when Asami slowly began to sink into a shred of comfortability, she could take in some of the small imperfections. The only point of dissymmetry was in that crooked grin of Korra’s. She also had a bit of scabbing around her nose, most likely from a lack of sunscreen. Her lips also appeared dry and a little cracked. She needed water.

“You can take a break,” she announced, realizing they were getting close to reaching the hour mark.

Korra nodded and walked over to her gym bag, pulling out her robe and putting it on, and then, as Asami guessed, took a huge gulp of water.

While she wasn’t looking, Asami stared even more openly. She already noticed the scar on her forehead the other day, but she hadn’t noticed the deeper, even bigger, but barely noticeable one going across her right knee.

“Was that from the surfing accident as well?” Asami pondered aloud.

Korra turned to her, then she looked down at the spot in question. Asami noticed a small frown appear.

“No. I had knee surgery nine months ago,” Korra said, going back to what she was doing.

It didn’t take long for Asami to put two and two together. Korra unintentionally explained her sour reaction to Asami’s recognition of her the day before.

“I wasn’t aware of that,” she said and turned her attention back to her sketches. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Korra face her direction.

“You seem different today,” Korra said.

“Am I not tightly wound enough for you?” Asami asked sarcastically. She picked up another pencil and did some light shading.

“For someone who doesn’t care about what I have to say, you certainly seem to.”

“I didn’t say that. I just said I don’t care for your opinions about me.”

“Why not?”

Asami kept her head lowered, though she stared at her sketches in confusion at the question.

“Because I don’t know you well enough? Are you going to say you walk around caring about what everyone thinks of you?”

“No, but if you’re going to spend several hours with someone in this position then you could at least pretend to care.”

Asami put her pencil down and abruptly looked up.

“Are you purposefully trying to piss me off or something?”

“No, I’m just trying to get a better understanding of you. That’s what Kya wants, isn’t it? She said you’d be a tough nut to crack at first—”

“What else did she say about me?” Asami asked, her stomach beginning to churn.

“Nothing…” Korra gave her an odd look. “Just that you’re not as off putting as you seem.”

“So now I’m off putting?”

“Wait, no! That’s not what I was trying to say at all,” Korra said quickly.

“My pencils need sharpened,” Asami said, getting up. She tried to walk by Korra, but the woman suddenly grabbed her by the arm, forcing her to stop. The minute her fingers brushed Asami’s arm, Asami’s body immediately responded to it, and she _hat_ _ed_ it.

“Hey,” Korra said, her voice tender; warm. “I’m not trying to offend you, I promise. I have a bad habit of putting my foot in my mouth sometimes and it gets me in trouble. Please don’t be mad. I'm sorry.”

Asami breathed out of her nose and finally looked over, catching the pleading look in Korra’s eyes. Any anger or upset she felt began to dissipate.

“Okay,” she answered, and gently pulled her arm free, slightly irritated that Korra looked at her so calmly, like Asami was her child who needed all of the patience in the world. Or maybe she was just projecting…

“Can I see?” Korra asked, pointing to the easel.

Asami hesitated. Though she felt comfortable just the other day showing Korra, the idea of her looking at what she drew now suddenly made her shy. Either way, she ended up nodding.

Korra walked by her, their shoulders brushing briefly, and went to look at the multiple round of sketches. The loud sound of her breath taking caused Asami's too as well. 

“Wow,” Korra said with a sigh, almost as if it took everything out of her just to release that one exclamation. “They’re so realistic.”

“They’re just sketches,” Asami said, rubbing her arm as she walked over and looked them over as well. “I guess I got a little carried away given how bad the one from yesterday was.”

“You’re so critical of yourself,” Korra said, looking Asami’s way again.

“Shouldn’t everyone be?”

“I mean, yeah, it’s good to show some self-awareness, but… Kya also showed me some of the previous work you’ve done and I…” she paused, and at the same time Asami’s heart pounded so loudly that it reverberated in her ears. Then Korra turned to her, her expression so open and full of awe. “I didn’t think I could ever be so moved from looking at art before.”

Asami had been so focused on the look in Korra’s eyes and the way she seemed to hover closer that she almost missed those words of appraisal.

“She showed you my art?” she asked.

Korra nodded. “At first it seemed impossible to pick my favorite one, but then…”

“Then?” Asami asked, hanging onto her every word.

“Then I saw your piece ‘The Great Divide’ and I think what pains me the most about it is that I’ll never be able to see it again for the very first time.”

Asami quivered, recalling that painting from five years ago. She secluded herself from everything and everyone after making the hardest decision of her life, and with that loneliness came the raw emotions. Anger, sadness, fear, and faith rolled into one. Out of it came a piece about painful sacrifice which paved the way for self-love. She’d never drawn or showcased a more honest piece before and after that day.

“I drew it a while ago,” she mumbled, looking down.

“You must’ve been drawing for a long time then to convey such strong emotion onto that page,” Korra pushed. “Everything from the tone to the colors seemed so deliberate and well thought out. And while the meaning of the painting can be anything, I choose to believe that it’s about hope.”

“Hope?”

“Yeah. The hope that despite the choices we make, what may seem greener on the other side might not be so rewarding. So you have hope that the side you chose maybe has that one dandelion that will sprout many until your side becomes a beautiful field itself.”

Hearing such profound thoughts about her work forced a smile out of Asami. She loved getting feedback, and hearing someone give their unwavering opinion always sparked a different level of meaning for her.

However, this time, something else she couldn’t explain mixed in along with it. Korra's eyes shined, a level of pride expressed from just that one look—A look meant for Asami: a woman that Korra had never known before until yesterday.

“How poetic,” she said, then turned to Korra with a smirk, “Your analysis of art is quite good… for a noob, of course.”

Korra blinked, and a second later an expression of glee spread across her features.

“I guess I’ll look to you as my guiding light then,” she gave a respectful bow, “senpai.”

Asami chuckled at the woman. “You’re an idiot.”

“Hey, be nice here. I’m complimenting you, after all. Plus, I’m giving you full access to a sight I know many would love to see.”

“Many, huh? Have you started an OnlyFans?”

“No, but thanks for giving me the idea,” Korra tapped her chin.

Asami kept her smile. She could appreciate Korra’s efforts in trying to make this bearable. Asami never played the argumentative type before, but there was something about Korra that immediately put her on edge. However, if they were going to get through these next couple of weeks then there needed to be some sort of common ground for them to stand on. At least, for the sake of the project.

* * *

Asami drew several more sketches in the last two hours of the session. She knew Kya only asked for one, but at least multiple ones of Korra’s actual body proportions and significant features would hopefully make up for her flub from earlier that day.

Korra made light conversation with her throughout, but Asami had to keep telling her to stay still. Nevertheless, it made her smile at the way Korra pouted at being reprimanded.

The sun already set by the time Asami announced they were finished for the day. She packed her pencils and cleaned up the studio while Korra put on her clothes. Rather than putting on the long white t-shirt and shorts she came in with, however, she pulled out another ensemble: a black jacket, green crop top, and some high waisted jeans. Her back muscles stretched and rippled as she pulled the shirt over her head. But then the end of the shirt caught against her bra, right in the middle of her back.

“Shoot, I hate this bra,” Korra complained, reaching back to try and pull the shirt free, but it didn’t budge. She looked back and caught Asami’s eyes. “Mind giving me a hand?”

Asami’s face didn’t move, but internally several alarms went off in her head.

Korra seemed to recognize her hesitation and smiled. “Come on. I promise I won’t bite,” she said.

Recognizing that teasing tone, Asami glared and walked over, coming just behind Korra, and tried to make quick of the situation. Her nimble fingers brushed against Korra’s back as she tried to pull the shirt free from where it caught on the two hooks. Some loosened threads somehow tangled in them, making it hard to unravel.

“I’m afraid I’ll ruin your shirt. It’s really caught on the hooks,” Asami explained.

“Unhook it first.”

Asami’s fingers jerked at the suggestion, her knuckles brushing the middle of Korra’s back again. She almost went dizzy at the sound of Korra’s breath hitching and how she muttered something about Asami’s hands being cold.

Asami stared at the back of Korra’s neck—that unsettling feeling in her gut returned tenfold. With a hard swallow, she did as Korra asked and worked in silence, unhooking the black bra. Korra held the front of it with her arms, tucking them at her sides, and Asami noticed the way the muscles in her back twitched and showed more prominently. It could be a separate piece of artwork in and of itself…

She only gave herself a brief chance to admire before quickly freeing the threads of Korra’s top and then clasping the bra back together. After, she pulled Korra's shirt down.

Korra turned and looked over her shoulder again, giving Asami a soft smile.

“Thanks,” she said.

Asami nodded and stepped away. She walked over to her bag and started packing everything into it.

“I’ll see what Kya’s thoughts are on the sketches tomorrow,” she said, trying her best to ignore what just happened. “Then I’ll give you a call and we can set up another session sometime next week.”

“Come out with me.”

Asami paused just as she situated her messenger bag over her shoulder. She looked up and noticed an expectant look on Korra’s face. Bitterly, she thought that it must’ve been nice to exhibit such a carefree attitude.

“Where?”

Korra shrugged. “My friends and I usually meet up and just go bar hopping in Koreatown. It’s a lot of fun.”

Asami couldn’t refrain from rolling her eyes.

“I’m busy,” she said dismissively and started making her way toward the steps.

“It’s a Thursday night!” Korra exclaimed, easily catching up to her just as Asami turned out the lights. “You can’t possibly say that grading papers would be more fun than going out.”

“Sorry. Going out with a bunch of 21-year-olds that can’t handle their liquor isn’t exactly my cup of tea.”

“You are so pretentious!” Korra said, laughing. “You’re what? Like 22 or 23?”

“25, actually.”

“Whoa. _Really?_ ” Korra asked, the amount of shock and intrigue making Asami feel a little smug. “I wouldn’t have guessed.”

“I didn’t know 25 was so ancient.”

“Wha—No! That is not—Can you stop taking everything I say so—” Korra stopped when she realized Asami was actually laughing at her expense. “You asshole!” she said, pushing Asami lightly.

When they got outside the store, Asami made sure everything was locked and the alarm had been set properly.

“So you really won’t come out with me then? Not even if I beg?” Korra asked.

“Thanks, but no thanks,” Asami said, shifting on her feet. “Besides, Koreatown on a Thursday night sounds like a nightmare.”

“Well, what about somewhere around here? There’s a bar just up the street. Just one drink and then I’ll let you go.”

“Now I’m beginning to wonder if this is a hostage situation,” Asami said, starting toward her car.

“Trust me. If I wanted to take someone hostage, they’d come willingly.”

“Then that wouldn’t be a hostage situation.”

She unlocked her car and opened the backseat, putting her bag inside. After closing it, she found Korra leaning against the front passenger side door, a frank look in her eyes.

“Just one drink. On me,” she said.

“Why do you want me to hang out with you anyway?”

“I’m your model; you’re my artist. I think we’d benefit well from getting to know each other outside of the studio. And I think Kya would agree with me.”

“The contrary, actually. This would be highly inappropriate and unprofessional.”

“I didn’t realize two students getting a drink classified as inappropriate,” Korra said, tilting her head in curiosity, a sly grin on her face. “What exactly do you think would happen?”

In record time, Asami became flustered. With a glare, she locked her car and walked back onto the sidewalk.

“One drink. Then I’m going home,” she announced.

No other words were said, and she didn’t need to turn around to know that Korra was grinning from ear to ear.

* * *

They went to a nearby tavern called Rocco’s that Korra couldn’t stop raving about since they began their trek. Asami already went there a few times after work to meet with friends, or recently with Kya, who would put all of the frat boys to shame from how much she drank.

They sat down at the bar, which of course had been packed. When the bartender came up, Korra ordered a rum and coke while Asami went with a tequila sunrise. When the bartender took their orders and left, Korra snorted.

“You really choose the fruitiest drinks on the menu?” she asked.

“At least mine is actually worth paying for,” Asami retorted. “And you _are_ paying for it,” she added.

“Yeah, yeah.” Korra waved her off and pulled out her phone. “I don’t have short term memory loss, ya know.”

Asami watched Korra’s fingers type fast as she replied to a few messages. Probably her friends. For some reason that irritated Asami.

“I can leave you to your own devices if I’m not entertaining you enough,” she said.

Korra put her phone in her jacket and looked up, that lopsided grin appearing again.

“What’s wrong? Do you need my attention that much?”

Asami scoffed at the accusation. “You’re the one who asked me to come here with you. I’m just saying that it seems a little rude.”

Korra put a hand to her chest. “You’re right. My apologies. I’m all yours for the night.”

Asami flushed at the wording. Seriously? Was Korra aware of the way she sounded? The way some of her actions came across? Asami wanted to believe so, but then that would’ve meant acknowledging that Korra _did_ have intent behind her words. It made her wonder and worry at the same time.

“It’s only one drink,” she muttered.

“Sure,” Korra replied coolly.

The bartender came back with their drinks and then Korra led her over to a table in the corner. As they walked, Asami noticed a couple of eyes flicker in Korra’s direction, but Korra never acknowledged them. Asami had the feeling that she knew how good she looked from the way she sauntered in those jeans that hugged her so nicely.

When they sat down at the table, Asami immediately began to drink. She couldn’t finish it too fast, but she sipped often. The quicker she could get out of there the better. Meanwhile Korra took her time, scoping out the place and occasionally waving over at people whenever they recognized her.

“You must come here quite often,” Asami assessed.

“Hm?” Korra turned her head and regarded the question. “Nah, not often. There’s just a lot of college kids that come here.”

“So then you’re just popular.”

“What is this, high school?” Korra said with a huff of laughter. “People know me, sure. I don’t go out of my way to be noticed if that’s what you think.”

“Most people who live here do.”

“Yeah, well, not this girl.” Korra pointed to her chest with her thumb. “I live my life, I do as I please, and I don’t give a fuck what anyone else says or thinks about it.”

Asami responded with a “hm.” It was quite refreshing to hear someone with that perspective, she found. A lot of the times the students got caught up in the glitz and glam of LA that all they cared about was the next social ladder they could climb. Unfortunately, Asami was one of those people. She had to be, after all. No one could help her be great. That came from within. Her talent wasn’t just something she did for fun, it was all she had to keep the bills paid and food on the table.

Korra had the look of the person she described herself as right down to the bone, however a lot of people could say that they “didn’t give a fuck” until something came along to make them. And for some reason, in the past two days since they’d met, Asami could tell there was something hidden beneath Korra’s seemingly smooth surface.

“I’m so beat,” Korra said, leaning back in her chair. She raised her glass to her lips for the first time since sitting down. “The day was _so_ long.”

“Are you tired from forcing so many people to hang out with you?” Asami said in jest.

“Very funny. No, I actually had a really big exam today in chemistry.”

“I didn’t realize nutrition majors had to take chemistry.”

“Yup. It’s my biggest stepping stool yet. I’ve avoided taking it for two years, but my advisor told me I needed to rip the band aid off already.”

“Chemistry isn’t that bad,” Asami said.

“High school chemistry and college chemistry are in a different league of their own.”

“Oh, really?” Asami asked, feigning ignorance.

“Yeah! It’s a _lot_ more rigorous in college, the professors won’t slow down for you, and the molecules are much simpler in high school. I mean, I get the idea of exponents, logarithms and all of that stuff, but it’s… it’s…”

“It’s the idea of acid and bases extending to non-aqueous systems where the pH can extend far outside of the usual 0 to 14 that throws you,” Asami guessed.

Korra’s eyes widened, and she leaned away in weariness.

“Do art majors have to take chemistry, too?” she asked.

“I used to be a chemistry major,” Asami deadpanned.

“Oh, wow! Well, yeah… I guess that would make sense.” Korra scratched her head, clearly embarrassed. Asami found that she enjoyed seeing that look. Despite Korra’s overall confidence, even she was still privy to having flustered moments. The expression went away a minute later and she looked back at Asami with curious eyes. “So how does that happen? Chemistry and art are on opposite ends of the spectrum.”

Asami shrugged. “I’ve been doing art for my entire life. I was more passionate about it than chemistry.”

“How long have you known Kya then?”

“Since my sophomore year. We met when she caught me in the student center doodling on a napkin.”

Korra leaned forward in interest. “That must’ve been one impressive doodle then. She doesn’t strike me as the kind of person who would take on anyone as an apprentice.”

“She isn’t.”

“You two seem really close, too.”

Asami shrugged. “I guess you could say that I owe her a lot.”

“Yeah? Care to go in depth?” Korra leaned her chin into her hand and looked at Asami intensely and with full attention. It made Asami regret her chided remark earlier. How was it possible for someone’s eyes to be so _blue_? Asami had the image of herself on a boat, out in a body of water where even the slightest tilt could send her splashing into the depths of the unknown.

“She took responsibility of me after my parents disowned me for changing my major,” she revealed.

“Oh…” Korra’s eyes widened and she sat up straighter. “That’s tough. I’m really sorry.”

Asami shrugged again and drank some more. Not only did Kya support her academically. At one point, Asami even slept in one of her and Lin’s guest rooms for a semester. After getting a job in the art shop and working there for a few months, she managed to save up enough to rent an affordable apartment with her pleasant, but at times cooky roommate—Well, affordable for Los Angeles, that is.

“But you’ve been an art major for a while now, right?”

“So?”

“So have things gotten a little better with them at least?”

“I think you’re forgetting what the word ‘disowned’ means.”

“No, I’m very aware,” Korra said smartly, her eyes with a sliver of determination in them. “I just don’t see how someone couldn’t accept a person like you for who they are.”

Asami almost choked on whatever left of her drink she had lodged in the back of her throat. She had to look down.

“You don’t even know me,” she said quietly.

“That doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate what I’ve seen,” Korra argued back. When Asami finally raised her eyes, she noticed one side of Korra’s mouth tilted upward, giving her a smug look. “What would you have done if you stayed in chemistry and graduated with a degree?”

“Pharmacy,” Asami said. It could’ve been the drink in her hand and how she would occasionally sip it every now and then, but she felt calmer than ever talking about such a sore subject. She didn’t like to dwell on it because, as far as she knew it, she made her choice and so did her parents. And from her side, she had no regrets.

Korra smiled, her eyes running along Asami’s face and downward.

“I could see it. You in a lab coat with your hair up and some glasses on. I would definitely know I was in good hands.”

Asami’s pulse quickened under Korra’s steady gaze. The way she said that just now seemed innocent, but her eyes told a different story. What was she thinking? _Imagining?_

Minutes passed and neither of them spoke, continuing to drink until they finished their glasses.

“Another?” Korra offered.

Asami’s eyes narrowed.

“You said one drink. I had one. Now I need to go,” she said, grabbing her bag.

“And here I was thinking we were making some kind of progress here,” Korra said. “Am I really that intimidating?”

“I’m _not_ intimidated by you.”

“So prove it.”

Korra’s challenging, smug look infuriated Asami beyond words, but at the same time she felt so… _excited._ If she’d been looking for competition to see who could outstubborn her stubbornness, Korra would give her a run for her money. She’d never been around someone who constantly found ways to provoke and spark such strong emotions out of her, whether she liked it or not.

She settled herself back down.

“I’m not paying for any drinks,” she said. It wasn’t her pay week and she only had enough money for groceries.

“I never said you had to,” Korra replied. A second later she called over to a nearby server and asked her to start a tab.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d swear you wanted to get me drunk.”

“Not drunk. I just want you to let loose a little. Not be so…”

“Uptight?”

Korra grinned, her eyes shining to the point where Asami had to look away.

“Again, I apologize. I know better than to judge someone based off of first impressions. That’s why I’m hoping after this little bonding session things are easier for you.”

“Why just me?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you _are_ the one who has to be naked in front of me. That can’t be the easiest thing ever no matter how confident you like to appear.”

For the first time in a while, the expression on Korra’s face sobered a bit. Her eyes lingered on Asami and she took a longer time to answer. This seemed to be a game between the two of them now: to see which one of them could see through the cracks of the other faster. But luckily, on Asami’s side of things, she didn’t have so many visible scars.

“I wouldn’t do it if I was uncomfortable,” Korra answered. “And I guess it helps that I’m being compensated very well.”

“I didn’t know you could earn so much from nude modeling in college,” Asami said, sounding thoughtful.

“Plan on giving it a shot yourself?” Korra asked.

“Oh, absolutely not.” Asami shook her head. “I couldn’t.”

“Why not? I think it’d be interesting to see an artist become the art. Maybe it’d be on an entirely different level than, say, a novice like me.”

“Well, unlike you, for some of us it would take a lot of convincing… and maybe a couple of shots.”

Korra laughed and tilted her head down, biting her bottom lip and then peering up at Asami again.

“I guess it’s a good thing that I’m wonderful at convincing people then, huh?” she said.

Asami’s chest tightened and constricted, the air in the room thickening around her. She wanted to ask Korra what she meant, but from the way Korra stared and the way that look made Asami squirm, she didn’t think it required an answer.

“Korra…” she said, hoping that her tone sounded even the slightest bit authoritative. Whatever _this_ interaction was, it needed to stop right now.

Korra leaned back, then she casually looked around, as if what just transpired never happened in the first place.

“I wonder where our drinks are.”

Asami released a breath. She stared at Korra for a while, unable to figure out how someone could just say whatever they wanted without fear of the aftermath. At this point, there was no question that she knew exactly what she was doing.

Two minutes after Korra asked about their drinks, the bartender showed up with them. There were four shots of tequila total.

Korra grabbed one and urged for Asami to do the same. After a toast, Asami quickly threw back the first shot. It stung the back of her throat and her eyes burned, but she took it like a champ. When she looked back at Korra, she noticed the sour look on her face as she tried to digest the strong taste.

“Tequila is hell on earth,” she complained, wiping her mouth.

Asami didn’t reply and already made a reach for her second shot.

“I don’t think you’re going to be okay to drive if you take that one right now,” Korra warned.

Asami brusquely grabbed the shot anyway. If worse came to worse then she could sleep in the studio for the night. She did it several times in the past.

Korra chuckled and grabbed hers as well. “Don’t say I didn’t warn ya.”

They took the second and Korra made a disgusted noise after swallowing hers.

“So gross.”

“You can order yourself a fruity drink if you can’t keep up with me,” Asami mocked.

Korra glowered.

“Oh, I can keep up. Another round?”

“Bring it on.”

* * *

An hour passed, but it all went by like a quick comic book strip. Once Asami hit the fifth shot, there was a sense of ease that she hadn’t felt in a while. She laughed noisily, even though it’d been engraved in her to never take up so much space in a room, and that blockade she was determined to keep staked in the ground became less resistant.

She squinted at the dartboard ahead of her, waiting until her eyes met some sort of equilibrium and steadied her hand. After readying herself, pressing forward on her front foot, she let the dart fly from her hand. It made a large thumping noise as it the bullseye.

The small crowd that formed around her cheered. Smiling to herself, she turned to find Korra just to see her look of surprise. They started with a real game, but then they quickly lost score and ended up making it a competition to see who could even get the dart on the board due to large amount of alcohol they both consumed. What Korra didn’t know, however, was that Asami was an absolute beast at darts, or any game in general involving concentration, whether she was drunk or not.

She searched around for the undergrad and became confused when she didn’t spot her, but then Korra surprised her by coming up to her from out of nowhere and wrapping her arms around Asami’s shoulders.

“You’re _so_ amazing!” she practically shouted in Asami’s ear. “So glad we didn’t place any bets.”

“You’re drunk,” Asami replied and attempted to remove Korra’s arms from around her.

“Yeaaah,” Korra sang, poking Asami in the shoulder. “Just a little, but so are you!”

“I’m perfectly fine,” Asami lied a little. “Though, I fear for whatever your friends have to go through when you’re like this.”

“Hey, I can control myself. I’m a professional.”

“A professional drinker? I wouldn’t advertise that.”

Korra giggled. “You’re probably right.”

“Come on. You should sit for a while.”

“Ya know, maybe it’s _you_ who’s the professional here, actin’ all cool and composed like you are.”

“Or maybe you just couldn’t keep up with me like I thought.” Asami held Korra’s wrist and pulled her away from the game and the crowd.

She thought Korra would want to sit down, but once they made it half way through the tavern, Korra dug her heels into the wooden panels and forced Asami to stop.

“I wanna dance,” she proclaimed. “Dance with me.”

“I’m not dancing with you,” Asami said.

Korra pouted, her bottom lip poking out, and the image of just leaning over and biting it stabbed Asami in the brain.

“Why not? I’m a very good dancer.” Korra started swaying her hips back and forth. She lifted the wrist Asami held and maneuvered herself out of it like a ninja, reversing it so that she now held Asami’s.

Asami swallowed.

“At this point, I’m pretty sure the _Cha Cha Slide_ would be difficult for you,” she said.

“You have no idea what I’m capable of,” Korra drawled. She began to pull Asami forward. They ended up in the middle of the floor with several others dancing nearby. Korra smiled at her seductively and reached up to undo her bun, her hair falling down her shoulders graciously. She shook out her brown locks and kept dancing, her arms going over her head in that same pose from earlier, but her eyes closed this time as she felt the pulse of the folk music beating around them.

Asami might’ve been a little drunk, but she knew that the image in front of her couldn’t be unseen or forgotten. Korra, her soft facial features and the freedom distributed across her face, the way her body moved in such a tantalizing and promiscuous way, the lower half of her stomach in that top more exposed under the lights. Asami wanted to reach out, in the hopes that the freedom was contagious, but she stopped herself. She came out of the daze and walked off in one direction.

She wasn’t sure of where she was headed until she noticed the women’s bathroom nearby. No one else occupied it currently and it seemed much cooler in there compared to out on the dance floor.

She walked over to the sink and put her hands on either side of it, dropping her head between her shoulders. When the bathroom door opened a second later, she didn’t even need to look in the mirror to know who stood there.

“What’s wrong? I opened my eyes and you were gone,” Korra said.

Asami gripped the sides of the sink even tighter and shook her head. “Nothing.”

“Are you sure? You’re not sick or anything, are you?”

“I’m _fine_. Just…”

She wanted to tell Korra to leave, but the words died on her tongue. Why couldn’t she say it?

“Just what?” Korra asked quietly.

Even with her head low, Asami heard the way Korra’s footsteps approached her, none of them sounding hesitant. When a hand came to her lower back, she didn’t startle; however, something inside her shook as the flattened hand slid up her back and ended up resting on her shoulder, then she felt a tickling sensation from Korra’s breath against her neck. She closed her eyes and allowed the withheld shudder to rack through her body.

“Fuck, you’re drivin’ me crazy. You’re so…” Korra murmured, but nothing else came after. But even with not saying anything, it gave so much more stimulation. To whatever those words were, Asami craved for them just as much as she recoiled.

“Don’t,” she whispered, albeit it took her a moment to say it.

Korra’s hand remained still and featherlight.

“Don’t what?” she responded just as quietly, knowing exactly what Asami meant.

Asami turned finally and faced Korra, who stood only a few mere inches away. The shared look between them alone became a conversation: one challenging, the other resisting. Asami’s heart pounded, the urge to just do _something_ becoming more powerful with each and every second that passed.

The bathroom door opened again and Asami quickly turned back around, flipping the water tap on to wash her hands. For a moment, she still felt Korra’s presence behind her, but once the person walking in came to the sink beside Asami's to check herself out, she moved away.

Asami’s hands shook as she tried to calm herself; to not be so drunk. After wiping her hands, she turned and walked out of the bathroom without another word. She headed back out to the main floor, but rather than staying there she headed to the exit. It took Korra calling out to her several times for her to finally turn around. Korra wasn’t that far behind her and stopped a short distance away.

“I have to go,” Asami said.

“Are you okay?” Korra asked.

When Asami saw her arm reach out and fingers stretch out to touch her, she reared back.

“I’m fine. I just need to go,” she said.

Korra, though drunk, looked surprised by the rejection. Her brows knit together in confusion and then disappointment.

“Okay…”

A sense of guilt creeped into Asami’s conscience.

“Here, I’ll get you a cab.” She pulled out her phone.

“I’ll manage,” Korra said, stopping her. “I know some people here who live in my apartment complex. They can give me a ride.”

“You sure?”

Korra shrugged and folded her arms, waiting for something that Asami didn’t have the nerve to guess. It was probably best not to know anyway.

With a short nod and awkward goodbye, Asami walked out of the bar. Instead of getting her own cab, she walked the mile-long distance it took to get back to the studio. Along that walk, her mind continued to whirl and buzz. She replayed the past two days over in her head, wondering how she could let it all snowball into this. She resented it, resented Korra for throwing her into such a confused state. She looked for any reason to deflect from the real situation— _her_ real problem.

After making it all the way back to Kya’s art shop, she disabled the alarm and went inside, turning on the lights. She at first made a beeline for Kya’s office, but upon approaching the steps leading to the studio, she stopped. After a minute of thinking, she turned on her heel and marched up the steps.

She would go to sleep later. Right now, she wanted to paint the memories of the night on a page and burn it.


	3. The Greatest Entertainer

“These are spectacular,” Kya complimented as she flipped through several sketches Asami drew from the week before. “A remarkable improvement from the first session.”

“So, do I pass?” Asami asked, cutting straight to the chase. As much as she loved Kya’s critiques, this little “exercise” was slowly driving her up the wall.

Kya removed her glasses and tapped one of the legs against her mouth. She glanced up at Asami momentarily and then down again. After repeating that motion two more times, she grabbed a certain page with three sketches on it and turned it in Asami’s direction.

“What did you learn in the process of drawing these ones?”

Asami looked down at her work, her forehead crinkling in confusion as she stared at the three poses of different variety: Korra’s body faced fully to the front, one from the back, and an angular pose. Asami stared at them all for twenty seconds each.

“Better shading? Smoother lines? Capturing the motion of the body rather than specific muscles and details?” she answered, though her answers were things she long since mastered.

Kya actually laughed.

“I wasn’t asking about technicality. What did you learn about your model through these?”

Asami’s mind drew several blanks, creating an awkward silence as she stared at her mentor who seemed to have all of the time in the world.

“Well…” she drawled, hoping that any answer would be sufficient enough to please Kya. “She’s clearly fit from participating in a lot of recreational activities, hence all of the muscle definition.”

Kya stared blankly. She was clearly waiting for something—anything—else, but Asami continued to stand there with no other answer in sight. After realizing that was all she had to offer, Kya sighed in disappointment.

“Everyone already knows she’s an athletic, muscular girl. What _else?_ Have you even had a conversation with her?”

“Of course I have,” Asami said defensively. “She wants to be a nutritionist and studies sign language and she used to be a star on the track team before she had to get surgery on her knee.”

“Okay.” Kya leaned forward, interested in where the conversation was headed. “And what can you gather from that? What does that mean for the assignment and how can these facts help you? What more do you think you need to know?”

“I…” Asami struggled, feeling overwhelmed at being asked so many questions at once. There had to be more information she could rely on for this conversation, especially after the few hours she and Korra spent together after their last session together.

She inwardly grimaced.

 _No._ She didn’t want to think about that night more than she needed to. After waking up in Kya’s office in a haze and hungover, she chose to put whatever memories she collected to the back of her mind forever. Of course she knew how ridiculous it sounded. She already had a few minor moments in the past few days where she found herself spacing out, causing those thoughts to come just on the edge of resurfacing.

If she’d been smarter, she never would have agreed to doing something so indecorous in the first place. Korra was her model; Asami was her artist. Why did it need to be made any deeper than that? Asami knew she was talented and could rely on that to get her through this project. A thick line needed to be drawn somewhere and she stood firm on that.

“Respectfully, Kya, I really don’t see the point to this,” she answered honestly. “If I can draw, in your own words, a ‘spectacular’ sketch, haven’t I proven myself capable of moving forward to the next step?”

Kya tilted her head, one side of her mouth curving upward into a wry smile. She placed her glasses back on her face and gathered the pages of sketches, aligning them neatly.

“You passed,” she said.

Asami sighed in relief (though she was surprised) and then grinned excitedly. She opened her mouth to give her thanks, but it all came to a screeching halt when Kya handed back over the sketches. “From a technical and artistic standpoint, you pass. However, I can’t accept these. And I can’t let you move forward into the final stages yet.”

“What?” Asami gave an incredulous look. “But you said—”

“I know what I said, but I feel like you’re missing a monumental component of this. You rely too heavily on your sheer talent to get you through any assignment that it becomes borderline arrogant. And don’t get me wrong, you _are_ talented, but you still have a lot to learn, my dear. Any artist can be called talented, but if that’s all you have to bring to the table then can you really call yourself unique? You’re holding back, and until you figure out or acknowledge why that is and work to overcome it, I can’t see you creating a piece worth showcasing at such a prestigious event.”

The harsh criticism may as well have slapped Asami into the ground and sent her spiraling through the concrete floor. Rather than showing her upset, she calmly collected her sketches and stared her teacher down with eagerness. Kya wouldn’t accept anything less than that.

“Care to offer up any sort of advice then?” Asami asked her.

Shrugging, Kya looked over at her large desktop computer and started typing something. “Nothing I haven’t told you already. You’re stubbornly choosing to look at things from a surface level only. Find what’s hidden underneath and approach me again when you can present more than just a spectacular drawing.”

Asami gave a short nod and left the room, quietly fuming and at a loss. She felt like she was being punished for something that didn’t come naturally to her. Even after the effort she made during the last session and her rapid progress, it still didn’t meet Kya’s expectations, and that _killed_ her. Despite never wanting to create art for other people’s approval, she held Kya’s opinion high over anyone else’s.

Stuffing the sketches into her bag, she walked off. While it was unlike her to ever want to quit anything _oh_ was it tempting.

* * *

On Tuesdays and Thursdays Asami picked up full shifts at the art shop since she didn’t have any classes on those days. Being one of the closest art shops near campus meant seeing a lot of the same art students come in and out throughout the week for more supplies, though there were quite a few occasions where someone would come in just to see Asami and ask for advice on their latest project or for recommendations.

Asami loved helping them. She sympathized greatly whenever she saw a student wandering around the shop aimlessly, the look of helplessness visible in their expressions as they were unsure of what they were looking for to begin with. She knew that feeling all too well in the past. During her last few years as an undergrad, however, she found herself less anxious and more excited for her projects. It became less about proving herself and more about creating a project she _knew_ she’d be proud of. She could only hope those students got to experience that kind of hunger and drive.

 _Though that could be my supposed “arrogance” talking_ , she thought bitterly, but then quickly checked herself.

She had a few days to cool down and think about her mentor’s words more carefully rather than immediately jumping on the defense. For a project like this, the relationship between the model and artist mattered. She’d seen enough intimate drawings in her past art history classes to realize that. There needed to be some familiarity there, as well as a level of trust. Korra already showed a hell of a lot of trust by sharing her body. Asami thought trust from her side meant ensuring Korra’s safety and offering a comfortable environment, but according to Kya that wasn’t it… or, at least, it was more than that.

She was currently stocking a couple of art books over by some shelves when she heard the bell jingle at the front of the store, indicating a new customer’s arrival. The other person she worked with greeted the person already, so she went back to stocking. Occasionally she would flip over a book she hadn’t read yet and scanned the contents on the back of the cover.

“Has the scholar found something of interest?”

The book almost slipped out of Asami’s hands when she jumped and turned. Korra stood behind her with an amused look. She was also drenched in sweat, her hair in a typical bun at the top of her head, though a lot messier than usual.

Regaining her composure, she put the book in its proper place while wondering if she somehow manifested this. There was no real reason for Korra to be there. They hadn’t spoken a word or made plans for a new session since that night at the bar a few days ago.

At that thought, she realized her error right away. It was inevitable that Korra would seek her out if Asami didn’t initiate contact first. Though, despite her previous thoughts, Asami knew she wasn’t ready to be confronted or proceed with the assignment.

“I’m working,” she answered a delayed minute later. “And you’re dripping on the floor.”

“Oh, yeah.” Korra used her arm to wipe the sweat off her forehead, which only transferred it to a different area. “I was over on the bike trail just now.”

“That’s a little way off from here.” Six miles to be exact.

“Yeah, well…” Korra held onto her elbow and looked down at the cart of things Asami still had yet to stock. She picked up a box of markers, playing with them, and Asami had to bite back an immediate response to tell her to drop them with her sweaty fingers. Then her breath froze when Korra peered up at her again through those steely eyes of hers. “I was thinking about you. Actually, embarrassing as it may sound, you’ve been on my mind a lot these past few days.”

Asami swallowed, ignoring the small bubble of warmth that stirred around in her chest. She glanced over at the bookcase, miraculously finding the spot where the current book in her hands was supposed to go. She quietly slid it in place, fitting it between a small book about bold shapes and the other about making sense of color theory.

“Look,” Korra said when Asami offered no verbal response, “I just came here to apologize about last week. You were clearly upset when you left and that’s my fault. My friends usually drag me away before I embarrass myself. Unfortunately, they weren’t there that time around.”

“There’s no need to apologize. I wasn’t upset,” Asami said.

“You weren’t?”

“I was drunk, out of it, and it was late. So I left.”

“O...kay?” Korra said in confusion. “I wasn’t expecting you to be so casual about this.”

“Casual about what? It’s not like anything happened.”

When Asami gathered the courage to look in Korra’s direction again, she saw the blustered expression on her face. Silence fell between them like a large glacier, but from Asami’s side she felt trapped between two. She wanted to fall back into the one behind her, sinking into it until she wasn’t there anymore. Anything to prevent the current conversation from continuing. But since she couldn’t do that, she’d go with being purposefully ignorant.

Korra watched her, waiting several beats as she searched Asami’s gaze for any sort of sign. Asami gave her nothing.

“Right… Guess that’s my mistake then,” Korra said and dropped the package of markers back into the cart. “So, then, we’re good?”

“Don’t see why we wouldn’t be,” Asami replied.

Korra nodded and looked around the shop, similar to the way art students looked when they didn’t know what to do with themselves. “I guess I should get going then. I know I probably reek.”

Turning, Korra made her way in the direction of the exit, about to pass the door and steps leading up to the art studio. Then Asami remembered.

“Korra, wait!”

The model turned back in an instant. “Yeah?”

“We should, uh, schedule for another session,” Asami replied feebly.

“Oh.” Korra’s hopeful look only disappeared for a brief second, but long enough for Asami to notice. Then she smiled fully again. “Okay. Did Kya approve those sketches from before?”

_Shit._

“Well, yes… but also no.”

“What does that mean? From what I saw they were really good.”

Asami paused, trying to come up with an explanation. She quickly came to the conclusion that the only option in this matter was the truth.

“She approved the sketches, but she still doesn’t believe I’m ready to move forward. That I’m, for some reason, holding back.”

“Do you think you’re holding back?” Korra asked, walking toward her again, her expression and tone serious.

Asami folded her arms and looked away uncomfortably.

“So long as Kya thinks I am, it doesn’t matter what I think, does it?”

“It does matter,” Korra said in an all-assuming manner. She ended up stepping even closer to Asami than previously. “Kya’s a brilliant artist, but she doesn’t know _everything_.”

“Don’t let her hear you say that,” Asami mumbled.

Korra only smiled. Even while dripping in sweat and exhausted from her workout, something about her seemed so serene. “What I mean to say is that you know yourself better than anyone. So it’s whatever you feel deep down—whatever you _know_ to be the truth that will make you feel ready. If you are then just go for it.”

Asami stared, her heart racing at Korra’s heated gaze. Something told her this conversation had two separate meanings, yet they both created mixed feelings. She was amazed, though a bit of fear established in her gut. Korra’s words sparked rejuvenation but anxiety. Courage yet cowardice. She stood straddling the lines of each when in the past she would’ve been able to pinpoint the exact direction she needed to go.

“I… Kya’s taught me everything I know. I respect her too much,” she said, but she (and Korra) knew it wasn’t a real answer.

“Did she at least tell you what you need to do differently?” Korra asked.

“Uh,” Asami paused, catching herself. In what world would it not have sounded weird for her to tell Korra that she was instructed to dig on a deeper, more emotional level with her? She cursed Kya for her sociological lessons. “Maybe add on another hour to each session? If that fits your schedule.”

Korra shrugged. “That’s fine with me.”

“Cool. We’ll start our sessions back up next week then. I’ll text you.” Asami turned and walked back over to her abandoned cart.

“Hey, Asami?” she heard Korra say and turned back around. Her breath almost caught when she found Korra smiling at her. “I never got the chance to say it, but it was really nice to spend time with you. I enjoyed it.”

Hearing the sincerity and tenderness in her tone spurred goosebumps. It almost felt like Asami had been thrust back into that day, in that bathroom, with Korra’s hands ghosting her hips, those supple, full lips barely brushing against the back of her neck. And just like that, Pandora’s Box opened and out burst the chain of images, scattering throughout Asami’s brain into tiny fragments until they became impossible to recollect.

“Yeah,” was her only reply. Without giving herself the chance to hear whatever response dangled off Korra’s lips, she turned away. Pushing the cart of things along with her, she kept her face forward despite the urge to look back and meet the eyes that had undoubtedly been watching her as she pulled further away.

* * *

Every now and then on the weekends, Asami would let herself be dragged all over the streets of downtown L.A. with her roommate. Zhu Li was one of the smartest people she’d ever met, double majoring in chemistry and computer science. When Asami still spoke with her parents, they made their approval of her friendship with Zhu Li very apparent. She embodied everything they pushed for Asami to excel in, and it also helped that she came from a very rich upbringing.

They were unaware of the Zhu Li that Asami got to see every day since the moment they met in Organic Chemistry and Asami found her scrolling through several websites, desperately searching for a new pair of shoes and ignoring the lecture all together. She may have been at the top of their class all four years, but it didn’t stop her from letting loose. Even Asami, who had a high tolerance for alcohol, couldn’t keep up whenever they went out.

They just arrived at their fourth (maybe fifth?) bar of the night. They started at Hanks, then moved on to places like Golden Gopher and Broadway Bar. Asami suggested moving on to some place a little quieter, but of course that was impossible since the Bruins won their biggest game of the season against the Trojans. A high volume of fans was looking to celebrate wherever they could.

To give Zhu Li some credit, she did take into consideration Asami’s growing anxiety and brought them to Seven Grand. It had a fairly decent crowd size at the moment, and for the first time Asami didn’t actually have to yell over the music to try and have a proper conversation.

They were seated at the long bar with several others, but from behind them they heard people utilizing the billiards area where several pool tables were lined up. Once their pitchers of beer arrived, Asami watched her friend practically chug down the entirety of hers.

“Whoa there. Slow down or you’ll choke,” Asami said in amusement.

“Sorry,” Zhu Li wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and put down the pitcher that was now half full, “long week.”

“Teaching assisting not going well?”

“Hell no. That professor is an irascible control freak with the brainstem of an ant. I could run circles around him. Don’t get me started on the students either. I don’t understand how you don’t read the material and have the nerve to show up to class and so erroneously argue about Bohr’s model and how it was right all along. At this point I could teach a group of preschoolers faster than these imbeciles.”

“Kids would probably be way worse for you.”

“I’d instill fear into them. That way they would never argue with a thing I say. Hey,” Zhu Li’s head shot up in that familiar way whenever a cooky (or rather drunken) idea came to her, “maybe that’s what I need to do. Instill fear. MK Ultra these bastards.”

Asami laughed hard at her friend. “So I guess we can cross future professor off of your list of things to do. After you’ve already made your millions from whatever revolutionary theory you come up with and win several Nobel Prize, of course.”

“I’d rather be in a nursing home catching flies in my mouth than ever be forced to deal with students ever again.”

Asami nodded and looked on with a smile. It had, indeed, been a long week. She’d spoken with Kya on and off, but it seemed that her mentor purposefully avoided bringing up the project, almost as if she was determined to drive Asami mad. She knew that Kya was providing a teaching lesson of some sort by _not_ interfering, but Asami would’ve benefitted a lot just from hearing the professor’s thoughts and having a sound board. However, that was probably the point. Kya couldn’t give her advice for something that was supposedly an internal issue.

“So, how are things going for you in the art world?” Zhu Li asked as she waved at the bartender and gestured for a refill. “I feel like you’ve been more obsessed than usual.”

“I told you. I’m working on that big project, remember?”

“Ah right. I’m so jealous that you get to spend an entire week in Madrid. I’ll have to give you some money to go shopping for me.”

“Well, from the looks of it, I may not even be going, so I wouldn’t be too jealous if I were you.”

“Why do you say that?”

Asami shrugged. “Tough project, I guess.”

“I’m sure,” Zhu Li offered sympathetically. “I honestly don’t know how you do it. You’re always off in some room all by yourself into the wee hours of the morning working on something. Is your brain just constantly on?”

“Yeah… Sometimes I wish it wasn’t.”

“Well, I’m sure whatever project it is it’ll be awesome. Always is.”

“Thanks.” Asami smiled. Even though she labeled Kya as her number one supporter, Zhu Li came in second. She didn’t know much about art, but she didn’t judge Asami either for dropping out of the Chemistry program like a couple of their other “friends” silently did. In fact, Zhu Li made an effort to make it to all of Asami’s art shows whenever she had the time.

“And are you sure that you can’t tell me what this top-secret project is about?” Zhu Li asked, clasping her hands together and batting her eyelashes.

“You know I don’t like to discuss my projects until they’re done. It’s bad luck.”

“Says who?”

“Says _me_. I’ve seen it happen time and time again where an artist announces something they’re working on and then it never sees the light of day.”

Zhu Li rolled her eyes and pushed her glasses up her nose.

“You and these superstitions… You’re no fun at all.”

For the next thirty minutes they continued to drink and chat. They arrived at that particular bar at nine, but as the night drew on more people stopped in. Large games of pool started and a big group that’d been there the entire night continued to grow as they celebrated the earlier football game win.

Asami was half listening to Zhu Li drone on about a complicated experiment she’d been working on for her thesis when the bartender came up to them and placed a drink in front of her. A tequila sunrise.

“Sorry, I think there’s been a mistake. I didn’t order this,” Asami said.

“The woman over there did,” said the bartender, pointing. “Said it’s your favorite.”

Asami and Zhu Li looked over in that direction at the same time. For a bar, it was pretty well lit, making it easy to look around. Although, before Asami’s eyes even landed on the person in question, every part of her knew who she would find.

Korra stood at the bar on the opposite end, near a slew of people, one of them being Opal. The minute Asami’s eyes found hers, she glanced over and offered a friendly wave.

Asami, though perplexed, waved back.

“Who is _that?”_

Asami blinked and turned to Zhu Li again.

“No one,” she answered.

“Are you sure? ‘Cause she just bought you a drink.”

“We just know each other.”

“Well, she’s coming over here now.”

Asami’s stomach plunged off her other vital organs. She didn’t dare turn around if Korra really was making her way toward them. It’d been a week since they saw each other at the art shop, and they had two more sessions after that. It’d been going fine and they fell into sync quite well, similar to the second day they spent together in the studio. However, in terms of making any sort of progress with the project, Asami found herself at a standstill. She already grew so familiar with Korra’s body that she could draw it without needing to look up every five seconds, but in terms of getting to know her… Well, Asami was never good with making conversation, let alone asking for more details into someone else’s life. And if Korra noticed her struggle, she didn’t jump at the chance to offer up any information.

Seeing her outside of the studio again (and in a bar of all places) made Asami uneasy to say the least. She successfully managed to move on from what happened the week prior and worried about the setback an interaction like this one would cause.

“Asami, hey.”

It appeared she didn’t really have any other choice.

Hearing her name, Asami looked at Zhu Li first, sensing her intrigue about the upcoming conversation, and then she turned to face Korra. The undergrad strolled right up to them and smiled with that crooked grin of hers. She was all decked out in a UCLA jersey that she knotted up in the front, along with some denim shorts that exposed her long, toned legs. Her hair was tied back in two braids with blue and gold ribbons tied on the ends, and she had a UCLA sticker tacked onto her cheek.

“Hey,” Asami replied coolly. She noticed how dry her mouth suddenly became.

“I saw you over here and thought I’d come over.”

“Yeah…” Asami raised her glass. “Thanks for the drink.”

“No problem. I know how much you favor it.” Korra gave her a warm, knowing smile, as if they now shared some sort of inside joke.

“Oh shit,” Zhu Li said, making Asami reluctantly look away from Korra’s eyes. Her friend openly stared at Korra in realization. “You’re Korra, aren’t you?”

“I am.” Korra nodded in confirmation.

“Wow! I’ve always wanted to meet you in person, but I never thought… Wow!” She said, sounding like she was just on the edge of fangirling.

“She’s not a celebrity,” Asami said, embarrassed by her friend’s gawking. Either way, she began her hundredth drink of the night and her tight filter became looser.

“She’s right, I’m not,” Korra agreed. “Although, call me attention seeking, but I’ve always loved having eyes on me. I’d make for great entertainment. Wouldn’t you say so, Asami?”

Asami coughed when some of her drink went down the wrong passage. She looked over again and saw the amused look in Korra’s eyes.

“For an infomercial, I’m sure,” Asami said, her eyes narrowing at being teased.

“Forgive her, she turns into a sarcastic asshole when she drinks too much,” Zhu Li said, nudging Asami in the ribs, albeit a little hard. “Isn’t that right?”

“Sure.”

“Anyway, I’m Zhu Li, friend of the drunken nutcase over here.”

“I’m not drunk,” Asami grumbled.

“It’s nice to meet you, Zhu Li. I’m Korra, as you already know.”

“Well yeah, I mean, who doesn’t? I never watched track before until I heard about you, but after that I couldn’t stop!”

Korra offered a tighter smile. “Thanks.”

“I read that feature article in the school paper a couple of months ago about how you’re planning on coming back to the team for your senior year. That would be awesome.”

“Yeah, uh, maybe.” Korra rubbed the back of her neck.

“So you’re here after the big game, I’m assuming?” Asami changed the subject. Sometimes Zhu Li lacked the ability to pick up on social cues.

“Uh huh. I’m here with some friends.”

“I never thought you’d be the superfan type.”

“Yeaaah.” Korra flung her head to the side and tugged on one of her braids. “I always feel like the odd one out when I don’t dress up, so I indulge from time to time.”

“So you definitely weren’t at the top of the pyramid on the high school cheerleading team?” Asami questioned with a snort.

“You’re being cheekier than usual tonight,” Korra said, leaning against the bar and right beside Asami. “I just bought you a drink, so you’re obligated to play nice.”

“I should’ve figured it was a bribe,” Asami said, still drinking.

“…How do you know each other exactly?” Zhu Li asked.

“Oh, I’m her—”

“Korra’s part of that art project we were discussing earlier,” Asami said.

“Oh yeah? The secret one you won’t tell me about?”

“It’s supposed to be a secret?” Korra questioned.

“Asami’s got this silly superstition that if she ever tells anyone what she’s working on that she’ll never finish it.”

“Superstition, huh?” Korra looked at Asami again and inclined her head, her eyes sparkling under the lights of the bar as that signature grin came into view. “That’s pretty adorable.”

Asami shifted on her barstool, noticing the way Zhu Li looked back and forth between her and Korra.

From out of nowhere Opal appeared, excitedly running up to Korra and pulling on her arm.

“There you are! Come on, you have to see this—” She turned her head and noticed Asami and Zhu Li sitting there. “Oh! Hey, Asami. I didn’t know you were here. What a coincidence.”

“Hi, Opal,” Asami greeted her. She only realized a second later the implication of Opal’s words when Korra gave her a side-eye. If this was a coincidence, did that mean Korra was talking about her previously?

“What do I have to see?” Korra asked.

“Huh? Oh! Bo and Mako set up a game of beer pong on one of the pool tables. There’s already a line of people waiting to play, but I called first so everyone’s waiting on us.”

“Wait, beer pong?” Zhu Li asked, her eyes searching around the room now. Asami sighed, already knowing her inevitable fate.

“Yeah, do y’all wanna play?” Opal asked.

“I do!” Zhu Li raised her hand. Asami inwardly sighed.

“What about you, Asami?” Korra asked, and there was something about the way she drew out Asami’s name, looked at her so ardently, that caused Asami’s brain to short-circuit. “I know how good you are with games.”

For a moment, Asami only stared at Korra’s lips, hearing the words come out of her mouth, but not fully registering what she said. When she noticed everyone waiting for her reply, she cleared her throat.

“I’ll think about it,” she said.

“Great! We’ll just be over there on the far right.” Opal pointed and then grabbed Korra by the hand and pulled her along.

“Dude.”

Asami looked over at Zhu Li after Opal and Korra were out of range and saw a huge grin spreading across her face.

“What?” Asami asked, giving her friend an odd look.

“Don’t ‘what’ me. Since when the hell were you friends with Korra of all people?”

“We’re not friends. She’s just the model for the next art piece I’m working on.”

“Oh yeah? And absolutely _nothing else_ is going on with you two?” Zhu Li questioned.

“I don’t know what you mean.” Asami said, looking elsewhere.

“Come on. There were certainly some vibes there. She was clearly flirting and had her eyes on you the whole time. Also, she bought you a drink.”

“So buying a drink means she’s flirting?”

“Would you be this oblivious if she was a guy?”

“Tch. We know each other through a project. That’s it.”

“Maybe for you. But at the same time, I don’t think I’ve seen you be so playful with someone since… Well, since Yue.”

Asami paused at the name, only briefly, before finishing off the rest of her drink.

“I think you’re imagining things,” she said.

“All I’m saying is that you’ve snagged a good ‘model’ for whatever upcoming piece you’ve got coming up. She’s amazing, and have I mentioned super attractive?” Zhu Li paused and hesitantly added, “don’t you think?”

Asami didn’t have to meet Zhu Li’s gaze to know the look she was receiving. It was the same one she’d been on the receiving end of for the past year and it always caused a sinking feeling her gut. Zhu Li would “innocently” ask Asami her opinion on another woman’s attractiveness or personality and patiently wait for Asami’s answer. Every time it happened, Asami wished she could go back in time to the end of their senior year where she got a little too hammered and ended up weeping out all of her frustrations, fears and shame into Zhu Li’s dress on the bathroom floor of a sorority house. Asami remembered waking up the next day in her own bed mortified by her behavior and scared of the aftermath. In a surprising turn of events, however, Zhu Li never spoke a word of it, almost making Asami believe she imagined the whole thing. Unfortunately that wasn’t the case, given Zhu Li’s slick comments every now and then.

“I think she’s the key to getting to Madrid. That’s all I care about,” Asami answered.

“Ouch. A little cold, don’t you think?”

Asami shrugged and stirred her straw in the glass with only melted ice cubes left in it.

“Do you still follow Yue on social media?”

She released a loud breath out of irritation. “Why are you talking about her so much all of a sudden?”

That time, Zhu Li shrugged. “It’s been a while, I guess. Plus this just reminded me that about a month ago I scrolled through my Instagram feed and saw some… interesting posts of hers. She seems really happy at her new job in Seattle.”

Asami resisted the urge to snap at her friend. Why she was sharing this with her, she had no idea. Asami hadn’t thought about their former friend in a long time or kept up with what she did, and she wasn’t looking to start now.

“Good for her,” she said.

“It’s sad how you guys don’t talk anymore. We all used to be so close and now we’re all in different stages of our lives. I miss the old days.”

“Didn’t you say you wanted to play beer pong?” Asami asked, interrupting the drunken nostalgia trip. “You’re probably going to have to wait even longer now.”

“Ah shit, you’re right. Let’s go!”

After buying themselves more drinks, they maneuvered their way through the crowd and headed over by where Opal said they would be. Asami was just happy to have found a distraction from Zhu Li’s 20 questions. Tonight was supposed to be fun, after all. What good would it have done for them to be caught up in faded memories of a past that was no longer of relevance?

When they reached the table there was a line of people already gathered around waiting for their turn. In the meanwhile, they cheered on whoever currently occupied the table, which just so happened to be Korra and Opal. Across from them were a man and woman.

From where Asami and Zhu Li currently stood, it would’ve been hard to reach them. Instead, they stood on one adjacent side of the table as an intense game of beer pong went underway.

“Damn! There’s probably so many other people who’ve already called next,” Zhu Li complained, looking around.

“Maybe it’s for the best. You’ve already had too much to drink and I’m not carrying you home.”

“Relaaaax. I’ve been pretty tame tonight for being me.”

Asami smiled and shook her head. Zhu Li did have a point. Compared to other nights, tonight was pretty subdued for the most part.

She glanced over to the left of the pool table.

Korra hadn’t noticed her yet, but there were plenty of people circled around her and Opal who anxiously waited for her to throw the ping pong ball into one of the very last cups on the opponent’s side. When she threw it and missed, everyone collectively groaned while she just threw her head back in laughter but also incredulity. Afterward, she picked up her actual drink left nearby and drank from it.

Asami stared, not because she felt enthralled, but because something about the scene in front of her made her feel so uncomfortable… sad even. Not for herself, but for Korra. Then she realized she already pinpointed exactly what this display was: a scene. A performance of some kind that Korra played the hell out of. It made her think back to that night at the bar a week ago, and that blink-or-you’ll-miss-it expression she saw from Korra. With her conversation with Kya earlier that week etched into the back of her skull, it brought forth some questions that Asami didn't allow herself to ask before. 

Who exactly _was_ Korra outside of the person other people perceived her as and who she _wanted_ to be perceived as? And why did she feel the need to put on (what appeared to be) this act? It also led to an even bigger question: How much had she been doing the same thing with Asami up until now?

In those brief seconds of analysis, her heart weighed a thousand times heavier. She had the sudden urge, need, and _want,_ to reach Korra. Get inside her head. Figure her out. But also something deeper emerged from behind all of that, and it called to her.

She finished off the rest of her drink with one large gulp.

“I’ll be back,” she told Zhu Li, sounding in somewhat of a daze as she handed over her glass.

“Huh? Yeah, sure,” Zhu Li said.

Asami proceeded to squeeze herself through the crowd and make her way around the pool table. The tight space made it hard to breathe at times, but when people actually let her get through, she could easily pivot in the right direction.

Just as she made it closer to the end of the pool table, the ping pong ball landed in Korra and Opal’s final cup, sparking cheers from the crowd in favor of the other team. Opal drank from the cup while Korra laughed and hung her head in fake disappointment.

Asami stepped forward, prepared to use her elbows to get through the last few people who became rattled with excitement at the prospect of being next in line for the game.

But just then, another scene played out right in front of Asami.

A tall woman with light brown hair crept up behind Korra, wrapping her arms around her. At first it appeared to be a friendly gesture, but then Asami watched the woman’s hands fall into the front pockets of Korra’s shorts as she leaned in to whisper something in Korra’s ear. Korra’s head tilted back into the woman’s shoulder and she laughed. Turning her face, she gave a knowing nod and then proceeded to let the woman kiss her. It wasn’t a small peck either. It was a full-blown make-out with tongues gliding and the stranger’s hands going everywhere. The crowd erupted into cheers and chanting, goading the two women on.

For a few seconds, Asami stood there staring, but as quickly as the moment happened, she turned away, walking back through the crowd, which she found much easier than before to get through. When she found Zhu Li, her friend was talking to someone else—a man. Zhu Li saw her approaching and waved.

“Asami, you remember Rei from our Organic Chemistry 2 class freshman year, right?” she introduced her.

“Hi,” Asami nodded her head toward him, not recognizing him at all, and then grabbed Zhu Li by the arm and stepped close, lowering her voice. “I’m ready to go.”

“What? Why?” Zhu Li leaned back in surprise and confusion. Whatever expression Asami wore forced concern onto hers. “What’s wrong?”

The cheering from behind her escalated, and Asami never felt more ensnared.

“Nothing. I… I need some air.”

“Wha—”

Asami walked away before her friend could ask any more questions. An unpleasant knot formed in the pit of her stomach and she wanted to hurl it up. Whatever her previous thoughts or spontaneous decisions were quickly went away like a barely lit flame. It wasn’t even the fact that she didn’t go through with them that bothered her. It was the fact that she almost did.

She was just about to make it to the exit when someone reached for her shoulder. Turning around, she almost crashed right into the person.

“Whoa, hey,” the man said.

“Sorry,” Asami mumbled, slightly dizzy from spinning around so quickly. All of the alcohol she consumed conveniently began to take effect.

“No, it’s my bad. I might’ve gotten a little ahead of myself. I saw you leaving and knew I would’ve been an idiot to not try and at least talk to you.”

Asami sighed. She was _not_ in the mood for this. There were too many mixed emotions and confusion to deal with some random dude trying to make a pass at her.

She heard the louder cheers coming from down the bar at the now popular pool table and her eye twitched.

On second thought…

“I don’t wanna talk,” she told the man honestly.

“Oh, okay,” he said with a frown. “My bad then.”

Asami grabbed him by the arm before he turned away and pulled him forward, bringing their faces closer together.

“Dance with me,” she told him.

It only took a split second for his eyes to light up. The only answer Asami needed.

She pulled him back into the vicinity of the pool tables and then turned her back to him. From behind, she could feel a hard body press up against hers: tall, warm and full. Then she danced against him, not giving a single fuck anymore. She didn’t care who he was or how she looked.

Only she could tell that her movements weren’t fluid; that the man only served as a prop. Her chest ached and her body shook with so much unreleased anger. She had no idea where it all came from or why it decided to make itself present in that moment, but she wanted to remove herself from it—extract herself from the matrix as if she were the purest of substances.

She couldn’t deny the feelings bubbling up inside her, or the way that image of what just happened stuck to her mind. They were the signs of something she’d been denying up until two weeks ago, and they weren’t going away. They only intensified. Now… Now she was left to deal with them as though they were her fault to begin with.

But they weren’t, and she wouldn’t take the blame. She was comfortable with her feet digging into the ground and basking in the glow of simplicity. The solid form of the man behind her only reinforced that. 


	4. Hidden Layers (1)

Asami sat on a bench, idly mixing some acrylic paint with water on her palette to create a fine, thin coat. She’d been hauled up inside the Broad Art Center all day, currently in between classes and finishing up a landscape painting for her Masters of Acrylic workshop class. Usually she would spend her time in the TA lounge or bothering Kya in her office, but that Monday she found herself alone in an art studio that people rarely used in favor of the newer ones recently built.

The events over the past few days threw her off, not only in life but also in terms of art. No image came in clear enough, making her brush strokes jagged, rushed, and sporadic. Whenever she had those kinds of days, she thought it best to take a step back and call it a day. This time she forced herself to continue with the thought of having something to prove. Now wasn’t the time for an art block, and she certainly didn’t want to feel that way because of whatever did or did not happen recently.

Cracking her neck, she drew out a long breath before grabbing one of the tiniest brushes in her arsenal and swiping the coat of red currant paint with it. She’d already begun to color the sky in blur, orange, yellow undertones to create a dusky, late summer setting, but she knew it lacked somewhere in substance. And when that happened, red always seemed like the best fix.

Raising the brush to the stretched canvas, Asami waited a beat before slowly inching forward and touching the top of the page. She willed her hand to move in any direction, but she found herself frozen.

With a growl, she slammed the brush down on the table beside her, the paint splattering against the wooden table. Raking her fingers through her hair, she stayed that way for a while until she heard her phone buzz against the table. Picking it up, she saw that she had a few texts from Zhu Li, who skipped her class as well as her TA responsibilities to continue recovering from their Saturday night binge. With a sigh of annoyance, Asami replied to her friend’s several texts about how she was “never, ever, ever, EVER drinking again.”

Admittedly, Asami felt the same. She woke up the next morning with sore soles in desperate need of a massage and a hangover the size of the Great Wall of China. Thinking about her actions from the night before didn’t even phase her, mainly because she didn’t remember most of it. Zhu Li didn’t comment about it either after finally finding her thirty minutes later cuddled up with the random stranger (whose face also escaped Asami) in a dark corner by themselves. She simply grabbed Asami by the arm and pulled her away.

After texting back and forth with Zhu Li for a while, Asami checked her Instagram. She gained quite a bit of a following in the past few years from supporters, fellow artists, and a few famous ones as well. Although she had a feeling that the latter portion only followed her due to Kya’s influence, or rather, threats.

She scrolled through her dashboard, liking and occasionally commenting on a couple of friends’ photos. Then she stumbled across one that Zhu Li posted from the other night of the two of them. They were in the bathroom getting ready, Asami applying a coat of lipstick as Zhu Li posed from behind her. Curiously, she clicked on the couple of comments left on the photo and recognized a few names. As she scrolled through them, her thumb halted when she saw Yue’s username. She bitterly recalled Zhu Li mentioning their past friend the other night and narrowed her eyes.

It’d been two years since she heard from Yue, and they long since unfollowed each other from every app—a lament to the death of any relationship these days.

Yue studied a year ahead of her and Zhu Li, and once she graduated, she moved to Seattle to begin her job as an assistant for a research chemist. It was too big of a gig for a freshly out of college student to not pass up, but Asami was the only one who knew there were other reasons why Yue jumped at the chance to move away. Once that was done, Asami lived by the motto of “out of sight, out of mind.” At least, up until now, she did.

Despite not caring before about what Yue was up to, the temptation proved far too difficult to ignore with it staring Asami right in the face.

Before she could stop herself, she clicked on Yue’s username and waited only a microsecond for her profile to load. From just the few recent photos that popped up, Zhu Li wasn’t wrong in her description of Yue appearing happy in the rainy city. Seeing as she always loved being a “Cali girl,” it did feel odd to see her skipping around in a pair of rain boots and showing off her lavish sweater collection. But despite her change in aesthetic, everything else about her appeared the same. She still volunteered at food banks on the weekends, took her nature walks where she almost always found some crazy, cool rock to add to her collection, and shared whatever initiative she took part in for the month. Her dyed white hair that may as well have been a personality trait made her icy blue eyes reflect. They always had the power to draw anyone in, whether she looked their way or not.

Asami continued to scroll until she stopped on one particular image that made her freeze.

There were quite a few recent photos of Yue with some new friends she made in Seattle, but in every single one of them, a single woman recurred who stood beside Yue more often than not. Asami thought nothing of it at first until she stumbled on the photo of Yue and the woman by themselves taken only a few weeks back. The woman embraced her from behind and Yue’s face turned into hers until their lips met.

 _Loving life now that I’ve found you_ ❤️🌈 the caption read, followed by a dozen hashtags that solidified exactly how much the woman meant to Yue.

Asami stared at the photo for a long time, swallowing the acrimony inside her until she felt it bubbling in her abdomen. She couldn’t stop the flood of memories that came back to her in an instant if she wanted to—the ones that filled her to the brim with disdain and disgrace. Ones that _this_ woman—who now seemed so comfy and settled—caused but took no responsibility over.

She exhaled, coming to the conclusion that she was right about not wanting to know any of this, and went back to her dashboard, prepared to close out of the app. She ended up back at Zhu Li’s post and looked at it oddly now, wondering why Yue would like it in the first place. However, the more she stared, the more she realized she was already far enough down the rabbit hole. So why not torture herself even further due to unfathomable curiosity and temptation?

Asami went to the search bar and typed in Opal’s name. They followed each other, she knew, but because Asami followed a lot of other people, she hardly (if ever) saw Opal’s posts.

As she suspected, the very first photo to pop up when she found Opal’s profile was from the night before last. Opal sat on top of the pool table that she and her group occupied the entire night, with Korra right beside her—a drink in hand and a beaming smile one her face, her cheeks flushed a bit from all of the drinks she consumed.

Seeing that Korra was tagged, Asami clicked on her name.

Korra had the typical life of a 21-year-old college student and fitness junkie, her posts altering between workout videos and photos to a fun night life with lots of friends and partying. Aside from Opal showing up constantly in them, Korra seemed to have various friend groups online, from running club to ASL club. Asami couldn’t deny that the most endearing sight was the photos of Korra working with deaf kids in what looked like a youth center. From the kids’ faces and the way they flocked around Korra, they really enjoyed her. Just like everyone else. Korra held some sort of status at the university, given the thousands of followers and being showered with compliments on every single photo, especially in the ones where she very confidently showed off her physique. Asami found herself glowering at all of concupiscent comments, some of which Korra responded back to flirtatiously. Asami also noticed that the woman Korra swapped spit with that night wasn’t featured in any photos, which could’ve meant something or nothing at all.

There was no denying Korra’s attractiveness, so it was natural that she’d be so desired. However, how much did Korra play into that? How many did people she give her attention to?

And the burning question Asami wanted to know: Were all of these interactions she had with other people just a wash, rinse, and repeat of theirs?

For the next few minutes, she continued to look at photos and the comments underneath them, noticing how Korra replied to a lot—if not most—of them. She didn’t post often, but she seemed to like capturing significant moments of her life, though one big thing seemed noticeably absent.

From what Asami saw so far, Korra hadn’t posted a single detail or update on her knee injury/athletic comeback. In fact, Asami almost forgot about it based on how fun and easy-going Korra’s life seemed to be. Some could argue that she moved on from her all-star track days, but given how reluctant she was to talk about it and how awkward she became whenever someone brought it up, the subject obviously still weighed heavy on her mind.

Asami closed out of the app and put her phone down. Glancing over at her canvas, she sighed in defeat, accepting that she lost the battle with her creative conscience for the day..

She wondered if the other night she’d just been seeing things. As an artist who liked studying people and their emotions in order to best capture them, sometimes she became prone to projection—of _wanting_ to see something that wasn’t there in order to create the soul-baring piece she so badly wanted to articulate. However, sometimes those emotions and that openness just weren’t there. Maybe Kya had it wrong. It wasn’t that Asami was the problem, it was just that Korra didn’t spark that desire in her to want to produce anything soul-baring. It sounded harsh, but it was how Asami looked at things from an artist’s perspective.

Korra was a fun woman, a nice woman even, but she tried too hard to be the _ideal_ woman, and that did nothing for Asami. Although she was accused of holding back by Kya, apparently she wasn’t the only one guilty of that. So if neither of them could commit to this 100% of the way, was there any point?

She grabbed her phone again and shot Korra a text.

_No sessions this week. Flooded with TA and other grad school stuff. Sorry._

* * *

The week went by slowly, and once Friday hit, Asami had to drag herself across the finish line.

She made it back to her and Zhu Li’s apartment a little past three after a long, boring lecture in her Interdisciplinary Graduate Seminar. To no surprise, her roommate wasn’t there—probably off studying and socializing at the Court of Sciences Student Center, or perhaps starting her pre-gaming early tonight. After last week, Asami told Zhu Li she wanted to spend the night in, and that was exactly what she planned on doing.

Plopping down in the tiny kitchen, she picked up an apple from the fruit dish and took a chunk out of it. At the same time, she felt her phone vibrating in her back pocket and gave the caller ID a mere glance.

“Hey Lin,” she answered, albeit a little surprised. Her mentor’s wife didn’t call often.

“Hey, kid. Where are you?”

“Just got home. Everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine. I thought you’d be here by now to help set up.”

“Set up?”

“Kya’s party.”

“Oh, shoot!” Asami slapped her forehead. In the midst of everything she had going on, she got her weeks mixed up as well. Since Kya was leaving for a week-long business trip during the week of her actual birthday, Lin came up with the idea to celebrate the week before. It surprised Asami to hear the proposition leave Lin’s mouth—because as far as she knew, Lin hated parties and always found a way out of them whenever Kya had some event to attend—but she agreed to help in terms of decorating

And just like that, her pipe dream of curling up on the couch with a large bowl of popcorn and watching whatever slasher movie she could find on cable came to an end.

“I’ll be there soon,” she said. “We’re meeting at the beach house, right?”

“I’m here now, but I’m about to head to the school to pick up Kya and kill some time until later. Opal and a few of her friends are already here setting up, though. I’ll let them know you’re on your way.”

Asami’s brain lapsed for a solid 10 seconds before she could form proper words. Korra’s smirking face only came to mind.

“Oh… okay.”

“See you later, kid.”

When Lin hung up, Asami took a minute to let all of her rambling, panicked thoughts run amuck. She’d been too stunned to ask for details, but if Opal was bringing a group of friends, one of them would most definitely be Korra, right? Kya handpicked her for the project, after all, and they seemed familiar enough with each other, so then why _wouldn’t_ Korra be there tonight to celebrate her?

And if that ended up being true, how awkward would it be for Asami to suddenly show up after ghosting Korra for the whole week?

She groaned and threw her apple into the trash can nearby, no longer having an appetite.

Whatever the case, she wouldn’t be able to back out of this. The occasion was too special and Kya would’ve taken notice of her absence. Unfortunately, she would either need to face the consequences of her shitty actions or evade having that conversation all together.

The second option seemed far more pleasant.

* * *

Asami pulled up to the beach house 45 minutes later, tired and a little frustrated with herself for being so atypically late.

Lin and Kya owned a beach house in Santa Monica that they let people rent throughout the year as an Airbnb. The large, two-story home stood just a couple steps away from the beach, allowing several different views ranging from the boardwalk to the Pier and even Malibu across the North Pacific. The second level featured soaring ceilings over the indoor/outdoor living room and terrace. The first time she’d ever been invited there for an event Kya hosted, Asami took just a few minutes to marvel at the beautiful architecture that had a good mix of modernization while keeping some classic contemporary design.

Opal’s car sat alone in the driveway before Asami pulled in. Once she got out, she started grabbing some things out of the back of the car. Two seconds later, the front door of the house opened.

“Asami! Thank goodness you’re here,” Opal exclaimed as she excitedly ran out of the house. “I was freaking out because party planning is _not_ exactly my forte.”

“That’s weird. I could’ve sworn you begged Lin to let you organize it,” Asami said bemusedly.

“Well, I didn’t know she would hand _all_ responsibility over to me. She seemed more than happy to do it, actually.”

“Fair enough. Sorry I’m late. I bought a few things from the store to decorate with, along with a couple of snacks.”

“You’re a lifesaver. And yes, please feel free to use that artistic mind of yours and save this party from being a disaster.”

“Don’t sell yourself too short. Mind helping with some of this stuff?”

“You won’t even need to lift a finger,” Opal said and turned toward the house. “Hey, losers! Get out here.”

Asami looked elsewhere, her heart thumping loud and fast. She felt so ridiculous.

Korra, along with a burly guy came out of the house a few seconds later, jokingly shoving each other as they tried to be the first ones out of the door. Asami barely noticed the guy because she’d been preoccupied with the sight of Korra in her party appropriate knee-length dress, her chestnut hair in a loose but elegant French braid.

“You two are such children,” Opal chastised once they approached the car.

“Should we call you mommy then?” Bolin asked, flinching when Opal teased she would hit him.

“I’m no one’s mom.”

“Sure thing, mom,” Korra chimed in and stopped right across from where Asami stood and looked directly at her. “Hey, long time no see.”

Asami nodded. “Hey.”

“What’s up?” the brusque guy said, coming between them. “Name’s Bolin. Bo for short. You’re Asami, right?”

“That’s right,” Asami said, shaking Bolin’s hand.

“Didn’t you paint that mural outside of the Women’s Center three years ago? ‘An Ode to the Forgotten Women’ is what it’s called, I think.”

“Y-yeah,” Asami sputtered, surprised.

“Since when were you an art enthusiast?” Opal asked, her eyebrow raising.

“I’m not. I just pass it every day when I’m on my way to the hospital. It’s a phenomenal work of art that highlights a bunch of extraordinary women left out of history books. I’m just glad it’s still up after all this time.”

“Thanks,” Asami said shyly. “Do you work at the hospital?”

“I go there for my clinicals. I’m a third-year nursing student.”

“That’s really great,” Asami said, offering a polite smile. Despite her resistance, her eyes shifted and landed on Korra, who’d been looking at her the whole time.

“Sooo,” Bolin said with a smirk, looking between them. “This isn’t going to be an awkward thing, right? You know, because you’ve seen Korra naked and all.”

Asami’s eyes widened and she even saw Korra’s brows shoot up in surprise.

“Wow, congratulations, Bolin,” Opal said, giving a sarcastic round of applause. “You’ve officially won Tactless Award of the Century.”

“Sorry.” Bolin’s voice went flat and his shoulders slumped.

“Come on, you. Let’s get this stuff inside before you say anything more to embarrass yourself.” Opal tugged him on the ear and they grabbed some of the supplies out of the backseat and headed to the door. But just as Opal passed by Korra, Asami saw her wink.

“Are you sure you can get all of this done in two hours?” Korra asked once they were alone.

“We should,” Asami replied, though her voice lacked any semblance of authority and leadership. She watched Korra grab the last of the bags out of the car and close the door, then she turned to Asami.

“We’re not throwing Lollapalooza here, are we?” she said in jest as she looked through the bags.

“It’s just a couple of things I know Kya would appreciate. Nothing too over the top.”

“Right.” Korra shifted on her feet. “So… Not to be all direct or anything, but I haven’t heard from you all week.”

“Yeah, sorry. I’ve been busy, like I said.”

“Whatever you were doing must’ve been pretty important then to blow off the project.”

“I’m not—” Asami began to argue and then stopped herself. “Never mind. Think whatever you want.”

“Hey, stop.” Korra reached out, even though her arms were being weighed down by bags. “Is everything okay with us? I haven’t seen you since last weekend at the bar, and I barely even saw you then. I thought we were gonna hang out.”

“Oh, really? Because you looked like you already had your hands full.”

“What does that me—”

“We should get inside.” Asami stopped Korra from asking the long-awaited question that would’ve provoked her even further. “I’ve got a lot to do from the sound of it.”

A frown formed on Korra’s lips, but she shrugged and then nodded. “Sure, okay…”

Asami walked up to the house, not waiting to see if Korra followed. In fact, the more she thought about it, the more irritated she became. Did Korra take her for an idiot? From what Asami saw that night, Korra didn’t have her in mind at all. Unless her saying that was just a never-ending part of her charade.

She wanted to get this over with as civilly and quietly as possible. Hell, if she could, she’d help with the set up and split the second she found the opportunity. What stopped her was knowing how much Kya loved parties and not wanting to deal with the aftermath of hearing her complain about Asami not being there.

So, for tonight, she would suck it up. If that meant brushing off Korra’s attempts at conversation, light teasing, and mind games then so be it.

The cool air blowing from the air conditioner felt refreshing on her skin once she stepped inside the house. Bolin and Opal were in the kitchen pulling out all of the items from the bags on the large countertop. There were some snacks and desserts already laid out, though they were scattered everywhere, along with a couple of decorations and party favors.

“Asami, what are your thoughts on beach parties?” Opal asked when she walked in.

“Horrible for the environment but fun when hosted by the right people,” Asami replied.

“Funny, Korra always says the same thing, but it definitely doesn’t stop her from going to them.”

Asami swayed on her feet and glanced to the right of her where she noticed Korra now leaning against a wall with her arms folded, one leg crossed over the other.

“There’s a party being thrown tonight by a couple of our friends,” Opal continued. “You’re welcome to join us after this one wraps up. Lin already gave us permission to spend the night if we want so long as we clean up and don’t get too crazy.”

“You’re wasting your time,” Korra said. “Undergrad parties aren’t her thing.”

“Wow, thanks for the honest answer, _Asami_ ,” Opal said, laughing when Korra threw a pretzel stick at her from the bowl nearby.

“You’re only asking her because right now it’s a split vote,” Korra said.

“Maybe not. Mako said he’ll think about it.”

“Always the decisive one, isn’t he?”

“Heard that,” chimed in a male voice from somewhere in the house. Then there were footsteps coming from the staircase. “Also, is that really the way to talk about the only one of us who knows how to cook on a grill?”

“Does that mean you actually got the grill working?” Opal called out.

“No.” The male voice got closer until finally he appeared from around the corner. “I know there’s something I’m missing, but I can’t figure it… out.”

Asami didn’t realize the awkward silence until she looked up from the counter and noticed everyone looking around in befuddlement. When she looked at the man in question finally, her stomach dropped.

For a moment, the fogginess of that night cleared, and through it Asami recognized the man’s face. He appeared slightly different with his hair slicked back neatly, but his light brown eyes, thick but well-groomed brows, and sculpted mouth were all prominent features Asami could recall from the dark-lit corner of the room they secluded themselves to at the bar a week ago.

Neither spoke out of sheer shock that by some seismic turn of events they were in the same room together again. Asami could feel her heartbeat picking up triple the beat, and the formerly cool room now turned into a scorching sauna.

“Uhh, hey,” Mako spoke again after a few seconds, rubbing his shoulder.

Asami felt everyone’s eyes shift onto her, eagerly waiting for her response.

“Hey,” she said, averting her eyes.

“Wait, so you guys know each other?” Opal asked.

“Well, yeah. We met last week… at Seven Grand,” Mako said, his tone quiet but his reply making everything apparent.

“Holy shit! No way!” Bolin said, a large grin appearing on his face when a lightbulb went off in his head. “Are you telling me this is the mysterious girl you’ve been telling us about all week? The one you disappeared for a good hour with?”

“It wasn’t an hour,” Mako and Asami said at the same time, forcing them to glance at each other again.

“Oh my,” Opal said, her eyes shifting throughout the room, first to Mako, then Asami, and finally Korra. “That’s… unexpected.”

“Talk about a small world,” Bolin added and turned to Asami with a laugh. “My brother was going on and on about you that night and the day after. We thought he was making you up because he didn’t know your name.”

“Can it, Bo.” Mako said.

“What? I’m just saying. Look at how well this turned out. It’s like a modern day Cinderella story! She’s been right under your nose the whole time with this art project she’s doing with Korra.”

“Wait… So, that’s you?” Mako asked, his eyes widening as his head shot in Asami’s direction.

Asami inched closer toward having a nervous breakdown. She never thought in a million years that the random, nameless guy she got lost in the crowd with, danced with, and _made out_ with would be associated with Korra’s group. He appeared a few years older than them, close to her age even, and the way he took her demeanor in stride that night, didn’t ask questions, and let her have her fun certainly added to his charm.

“I guess we all know the kind of person it takes to get Mako out on the dance floor then,” Korra said, drawing Asami’s eyes to her (after being too much of a coward to look at her for a reaction). To her surprise, Korra wore a calm expression, almost blasé as she stared back at Asami. “You too, apparently.”

Swallowing hard, Asami fixed whatever face she wore at the moment.

“The grill’s not working right?” she asked, though she didn’t look to anyone for confirmation. “It’s probably just jammed again. I’ll fix it.”

“Mind if I watch you? Fix the grill, I mean,” Mako asked, quickly adding the latter sentence. “I’ve been trying to fix it for two hours now.”

Asami heard stifled snickering from Bolin and Opal telling him to hush. From the slight tint in Mako’s cheeks and the way he apparently hadn’t been able to get that night off his mind, Asami knew she left an impression on him, though she couldn’t fathom _why_ exactly. Signs of a migraine were beginning to come on.

“Sure,” she mumbled and left it at that, though secretly she hoped that by the lack of enthusiasm in her tone, Mako would get the hint.

He didn’t.

She left the kitchen with him not too far behind her, and walked right by Korra, who still stood with her back against the wall. Though—like clockwork—she unabashedly watched Asami more closely than anyone else, her eyes tantalizing and taunting.

Asami kept her eyes locked ahead.

* * *

Mako had this nervous habit of talking out of a desperate need to fill the silence. Asami hadn’t noticed it the night they met, probably because she’d been too drunk at the time or because she didn’t leave much room for talking. Whether he described the intricacies of grill anatomy or pointless commentary on California weather, he could manage a full three paragraphs worth of sentences on those topics alone. He also talked about how he was in his first year of law school after graduating with high honors. That was as much as Asami cared to learn. The rest of the time she would just nod along, pretending to tinker around with the grill even though she’d long since had it fixed. It was either listen to Mako talk or go back inside and awkwardly stand under Korra’s watchful gaze.

She already took one break just to see how the others were doing with the decorating after realizing she’d forgotten to give any proper instruction, which then had her stumbling over her words and blabbering about balloon placement because she’d been so flustered. She just knew Korra took some amusement out of that.

After another five minutes of “tinkering,” she finally got the grill turned on and decided to set up the outside dining area. One thing Asami appreciated about the house the most was the large patio. Whenever the house wasn’t rented during the summer (and those times came few and far between), she would ask Kya for the key so she could go there to relax and read a good book with the sun setting behind her. She would’ve given anything to have that level of peace right now.

After Mako finished putting a wide range of meat on the grill, he helped Asami, adding some extra height advantage for hanging decorations near the sliding door.

“So…” he said slowly, and the way he said it had Asami tensing up. “Are we ever going to address the big, fat elephant in the room? Or should I just keep blabbering on knowing that half of what I’m saying is going in one ear and out the other?”

Asami gave herself some time, looking down at the ‘happy birthday!’ banner she had yet to hang. She was actually surprised that Mako wasn’t beating around the bush anymore. For a second, she even got comfortable, thinking the two of them could just get along without having to talk about it. She should’ve known that would’ve been too easy.

“What do you want me to say?” she asked him and then stepped on top of the chair and began to hang the banner across the door.

“Did you have a good time at least?” Mako asked.

“Yeah… It was good.”

“Don’t sound too disinclined.”

From the humor in his tone, Mako seemed to be taking it all lightly. At least one person in this situation could. Or maybe he and Korra both would and share a laugh at her expense.

“I had a good time,” she answered again. “I just wasn’t expecting to see you again after that.”

“Yeah, same. I’ve never had this type of coincidence happen before, and sure the night was a little weird, but I’m glad that that wasn’t the last time I saw you…”

Asami heard the invitation in his voice and her body went rigid. She didn’t like where the conversation was headed and needed to get her point across.

“Listen... I’m sorry for the way I acted or the confusion you might’ve gotten from it. I’m usually not that kind of person...”

“It’s quite all right.” Mako walked over to help her down from the chair. Instead of letting go right away, he held onto her hand a little longer than necessary as he hovered over her. “I guess I should probably tell you that after that night, I’m definitely not the hook up with a stranger in a bar and move on the next day type either.”

Asami watched him pull away, smoothly taking the unhung side of the banner out of her hands and walking over to the other side of the sliding door to hang it.

Having not realized the double meaning of her words when she said them, Asami opened her mouth and prepared to correct herself.

The sliding door opened and Opal walked out.

“Wow! It looks so nice out here. The lanterns are going to be a really nice touch later on.”

Asami blinked, still processing and panicking about that mix up, and then she turned to Opal, who looked unaware of her interruption. Rather than creating an awkward situation and asking her to leave, Asami tabled the conversation with Mako for the time being.

“Everything’s okay inside?” she asked instead.

“Yup, we’re all set.”

“Did Bolin make that beer run yet?” Mako questioned. He walked back over to the grill and checked on the food.

“He and I are about to go right now.”

“Where’s Korra?”

“She needed to lie down for a while. I think she might’ve overdone it.”

“Is it her knee again?” Mako asked, looking at Opal in concern. Asami also waited for her confirmation.

Opal nodded with a frown. “She was on the track earlier today with Tenzin and I think she pushed herself too hard.”

Mako sighed. “I know how bad she wants this, but…”

“I know,” Opal said without needing Mako to finish his thought. “I’m hoping Tenzin will give her a talk later.”

“You really think she’ll listen?”

“When it comes to this, I think Tenzin’s the only one who’ll get through to her.”

“Yeah...” Mako sighed. “I just wish there was more I could do as her friend, you know?”

“We need napkins,” Asami interrupted. “I’ll go find some.”

She headed back inside, determined to get far away from the discussion. Whatever they were talking about, she didn’t need to be there to hear it. Being part of conversations where she clearly didn’t belong made her uncomfortable, and she wondered how Korra would’ve felt knowing that she heard anything she shouldn’t have.

Asami couldn’t say the temptation to stay wasn’t there, though. She may have been able to memorize Korra’s body, but the rest of her remained closed off—in no thanks to Asami, she could admit. There were things about Korra, from her attractiveness to her bold behavior, that Asami _couldn’t_ be around. She didn’t want to know a person like that. Not anymore.

She walked through the top floor of the house. Knowing that it would soon be filled with however many people Lin invited, she wanted to have just a few minutes alone to herself.

There were three rooms total in the house. She went for the master bedroom at the end of the hall: her favorite room because it had Kya’s extra special artistic touch on it with its underwater theme and calming color tones painted on the walls.

The door was closed as usual, but she knocked on it three times and waited for a response. When she heard nothing, she entered.

“I said I’m fine, Opal.”

Asami halted at the sound of Korra’s voice and her wariness tripled. Why didn’t she answer when she knocked?

She stood there in place, unsure of whether or not to quietly close the door and back away or say something. Despite her anxiety, she did notice that Korra’s voice sounded uncharacteristically quieter and more subdued. Could she have been in pain from her knee?

Taking a deep breath, Asami pushed the door open slightly.

“Sorry, it’s just me. I didn’t know you were in here,” she said and peeked in when a long silence passed. Korra’s back faced her, but she shifted at Asami’s announced presence. Then she didn’t speak for another few seconds.

“No problem,” she said in a chipped manner.

Asami waited, not knowing what more to add, but it didn’t feel right ending the conversation there.

“Are you okay? Opal said you weren’t feeling well.”

“You actually care?”

“Would I ask if I didn’t want to know?” Asami questioned back. She stared at Korra’s tense shoulders, surprised by her less than friendly tone.

“I don’t know. You do seem to enjoy playing hot and cold.”

“Excuse me?”

“You know Mako and I used to hook up, right?” Korra asked, suddenly turning and looking at her directly.

Asami halted, her eyes going wide.

“N-no, I didn’t… I… That’s not…”

Korra tilted her head as she watched Asami digest the information, her eyes furtively searching. “So, you really didn’t know before you hooked up with him?”

“No, of course not. That would be low. And we didn’t ‘hook up.’” Asami corrected her.

“Why do you think that?”

“What?”

“In order for something to ‘be low,’ it would mean you’ve done an act or unjust behavior to cause another person’s distress, and that you could potentially—purposefully—cause more. So, in your opinion, why do you think doing something like that would be low?”

Asami’s tongue got caught in a web of deposition, working to betray her at every turn. She didn’t expect Korra to become so inquisitive all of a sudden, but it added more pressure to the already boiling pot. In her own corner of self-inflicted isolation, she folded into herself.

“I… I don’t know,” she said, looking away.

“You don’t know,” Korra repeated with a scoff and then turned back on her side. “What a shame.”

Asami remained there in the door, completely riddled. Did Korra have any reason to be upset with her in the first place? How was she supposed to know that Mako was an ex(?) of hers? And from the way she was reacting right now, was it possible that her and Mako were still a thing? Was she jealous? Although, if that was the problem then Mako should be the main issue. Also, didn’t she just catch Korra last week making out with some random woman _while_ Mako was only 10 feet away?

Growing frustrated with all of the questions and uncertainty, she backed out of the room.

“The guests should arrive here shortly.”

“Whatever.”

“Fine.”

Asami closed the door behind her, a little louder than necessary and stormed off. She never should’ve gone inside the room to begin with.

 _Oh well for trying,_ she thought. Apparently she was the bad guy in Korra’s book now whether she deserved it or not. And maybe that gave her the perfect excuse she needed to back out of this project for good.


	5. Hidden Layers (2)

The guests arrived and Asami made it her duty to greet every single person at the door, making small talk and hearing them give updates on their lives. Most of the people were professors at UCLA, some of them former art professors of hers. However, there were some from other departments such as Business, English, and the Performing Arts who knew Kya through buying art pieces from her and her students over the years.

Asami smiled seeing her mentor come through the door and appear genuinely shocked after removing her blindfold and hearing everyone’s cheerful, simultaneous greeting. Lin didn’t outwardly express a lot of emotion, but in that moment her eyes lit up in such a blinding way as she watched the glee spread across her wife’s face. Watching them hug and seeing them kiss spread a mix of happiness and desolation inside Asami’s chest, forcing her to look away.

Once all of the salutations and immense hugs were shared, everyone headed upstairs and sat down outside. There were catered side-dishes on the table, along with a professionally designed marble cake in the middle. Asami sat near the head of the table where Kya sat and she hoped one of Kya’s siblings would’ve done her the favor of taking the seat next to her, but then Mako came up and politely asked her if he could sit down. Asami noticed the three other looks she received when asked, but rather than acknowledge them, she awkwardly nodded and went back to eating her food.

For most of the dinner, she kept quiet and her head down low. In the process of doing that, she was able to observe a lot more. Bolin, Opal, and Mako actively socialized in the group of 15 people and helped make everyone’s plates. Korra, however, appeared quieter than usual. The only person she interacted with the entire time was Tenzin, who she sat next to, along with his wife and four kids.

Tenzin never slouched, and he chewed precisely three times before going in for another bite of his salad, however he always seemed engaged with what Korra was saying. Asami couldn’t make out her words, but from the little she heard of Opal and Mako’s conversation earlier and the fact that Tenzin was the track and field coach, it seemed pretty obvious what they were discussing.

Asami’s brow twitched upon realization that for the fifth time since sitting down at the table her eyes were drawn to Korra out of pure instinct. She told herself she didn’t care; that whatever Korra’s issue, it had nothing to do with her and that Korra didn’t care for her concern anyway. She knew when she wasn’t wanted, and she wouldn’t beg or plead for anyone’s acceptance when they clearly had some deep-rooted ideas about her in the first place.

But still… the way Korra refused to look her way—acknowledge Asami in even the slightest bit—pissed her off extremely.

“Everyone, we have an announcement,” Kya said, eloquently tapping the tip of her wine glass with her spoon and waiting until she had everyone’s attention. She stood up and forced Lin to as well, though Lin seemed highly embarrassed to do so. “It’s obvious that this party came as quite the surprise to me, given that my wife isn’t exactly the best in terms of throwing these types of gatherings, and I’m very grateful to all of you for showing up today. However, this party actually wasn’t the biggest surprise today. Our 20-year wedding anniversary is coming up in a few weeks, and this morning Lin asked me if I’d do her the honor of marrying her again. I said yes, of course!”

There were several cheers and claps, with Opal being the most vocal, getting up and running to hug her aunts.

“We’re so happy for you guys!” she said, and several confirmations came in from behind her. “Does Mom know?”

“I told Su the other day,” Lin said. Her sister and the rest of Opal’s family lived in Texas.

“Thank you, everyone,” Kya said cheerfully. “I already know that I want a winter-themed wedding since we got married in the summer last time. I’ll need to get started on invitations right away, but you’re all invited.”

“It’ll be a _small_ event,” Lin chimed in immediately after, giving her wife a look.

“Yes, of course, totally exclusive,” Kya said with a smile and then gave everyone else at the table a wink, garnering laughter around the table.

Asami glanced around and, again, her eyes focused on Korra, who looked to the head of the table with a small smile of her own. She didn’t appear to notice Asami’s gaze at all, but as abrupt as that thought came to Asami, it went away when their eyes locked for the first time since the guests arrived.

Asami thought they’d been transported back to the studio where it was only them, her eyes moving along a canvas of colors until they locked onto the only color that could paralyze yet magnify her at the same time. Then there was the perfect shape of a body, so exposed, so confident, and so _hers_ if only for a few hours. No one could see what Asami saw under the harsh but revealing lights. No one could understand the expressions, the fluid movements of Korra’s body as she rolled through every pose, the twitch of her muscles, the flex of her fingers, the dip in her back, the strength of her thighs… the cleft in her left asscheek as she walked, the sensitivity of her nipples once a gentle gust of cold air from the nearby fan brushed against them, making her quietly hiss...

Although they were outside, the air became unbreathable for Asami. Like feeding a craving she hadn’t realized she desired, satiety shocked her quite literally. Electricity rushed down from her head to her toes due to the powerful charge emitting from Korra’s eyes. Through it, Asami’s imagination ran rampant. She wondered what it’d be like to receive that look in the dark, under the moon, near a blazing fire; Korra’s body on top of hers, their sweaty, naked limbs pulled together magnetically—aligned and writhing.

Korra’s eyes broke away first and Asami blinked, realizing her outlandish thoughts.

“You okay?” Mako asked from beside her. “You look a little red.”

Not only did she look red, Asami thought she’d combust from the bubbling heat rising inside her. Her pulse raced and her breathing sounded far too loud to her own ears.

“I’m fine,” she grumbled and picked up her wine glass to finish whatever she had left in it.

“Want some more?” Mako asked, already reaching for the wine bottle closest to them.

Asami only nodded, holding her glass up and watching the red wine flow into the small oval. She thought of a piece she painted once of a woman lathered in red, immersed in the color so much that she became it. Greedy, yet always so unfulfilled.

After dessert, Asami was one of the first ones to leave the table. She finished her third glass of wine, so the rooms began to bleed into one another, but she only lost balance once and played it off well. Once she got to the kitchen, she decided to keep herself busy by cleaning up. Slowly, people made their way downstairs and said their goodbyes, though a few did offer to stick around and help tidy up the place, to which Asami politely waved them off.

“You don’t have to do that,” Kya said, waltzing up to her 20 minutes later. Or at least that was how it felt. Asami lost track of the time.

“No, _you_ don’t have to clean up,” she said as she stacked the dishes into the dishwasher. “Have you had a good time?”

“It’s been amazing. One of the best non-birthday birthdays I’ve ever had. And I’m most definitely getting laid tonight.”

“Thanks for that, _professor_.”

Kya giggled and leaned against the counter. “How have things been with you?”

“Fine,” Asami said, though she purposely kept her head lowered.

“Have you been working on the project?”

“You already know the answer to that, don’t you?”

“I have a good guess, but I was hoping you’d surprise me.”

Asami sighed and closed the dishwasher once she finished, then she brought her hands up to the counter. “There’s only so much I can do right now, I think.”

Kya touched her shoulder and looked at her with a stern expression.

“You know, this may be my party, and I might’ve had just a little bit too much wine tonight, but I often find myself more observant in environments like this. Then again, the tension is just radiating off of you right now that anyone could see it—”

“Kya...”

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to lecture you,” Kya said, her expression softening. “I just want you to remember that even when I’m hard on you, it’s because I know your worth. I know exactly what you’re capable of. That’s why I’m confident you’ll see this project through to the end.”

“But what if I don’t?” Asami spoke quietly. “Would you hate me?”

“What? No, how could you ever think—” Kya stopped herself. Asami’s fearful gaze said it all. Stepping closer, Kya put both hands on Asami’s shoulders now. “No. I wouldn’t hate you. But that’s nothing you have to worry about anyway since you  _ will  _ finish it.” 

“But—”

“No buts. Don’t let something like this destroy your confidence. Figure out that mental block for yourself and then overcome that struggle. I know how much heaviness you’ve held on your shoulders in the past and that you’ve always carried yourself profoundly, but this current load you’re carrying… I think any person would crumble under that weight.”

“I thought you said you wouldn’t lecture me.”

“And I’m not.” Kya held her hands up. “I’m just expressing my concern.”

“Yeah, but you say all of that as if you already know what my issue is.” Asami turned and her stomach lurched when she caught Kya’s knowing expression.

“Maybe I do,” Kya said and leaned in closer. “But maybe you do, too.”

“If I did, don’t you think I would’ve already blown through this little test you’ve given me?”

“Yes, you would have. But as I said, you’re a smart woman, way smarter than I was at your age. Don’t just give up, okay?”

“You wouldn’t let me even if I tried.”

“Hmm, yes. I definitely wouldn’t want a quitter as my bridesmaid.”

“Wait—” Asami perked up and stared at Kya in awe. “Really?”

“Without question. Do you think you’re up for it?”

“Yes!” Asami said, hugging her.

Kya laughed and patted her on the back.

“Good. It won’t be anything strenuous, I promise. You have enough work to do.”

“Either way, I’m totally in.”

“And what’s going on here?” asked Lin, walking up to them.

Once they pulled away, Kya wrapped an arm around Asami’s shoulder. “I was just letting Asami here know that she’ll be my bridesmaid.”

“You waste no time, don’t you?”

“You know me, always the planner.”

“Uh-huh. Anyway, are you ready to go? All of this hugging and lovey-dovey crap is becoming nauseating.”

“ _Yes,_ we can leave,” Kya sighed in exasperation, though she smiled as she went over to her wife. “You did good today, so now I will reward you by giving into your antisocial tendencies.”

“Thank you.” Lin folded her arms and then looked to Asami. “Be sure to keep an eye out on those partying fools tonight. I want this beach house the way it was left this morning. And this place is _only_ meant for sleeping. Any kind of party or mentioning of one here, shut it down immediately.”

“Oh, I think there’s a misunderstanding,” Asami said. “I’m not staying.”

“I was under the impression you were. But if that’s not the case, I’ll tell Opal and the others to go home for the night. Love her to death but I do not trust her in this house with a couple of friends.”

“Hold on—” Asami stopped Lin from shouting over to Opal from across the room. She didn’t want to be the one responsible for ruining the fun for a bunch of rowdy undergrads. “I’ve had too much to drink anyway, so I can stay for a couple of hours and make sure everyone gets back here safe at least.”

“Fantastic!” Kya clapped. “But don’t be afraid to have some fun for yourself too. It’s a full moon tonight. Perfect for drinking up some wonderful celestial energy.”

Asami gave a short nod. She had no intention of joining in on whatever fun Opal had cooked up. She’d seen enough of that the weekend before and didn’t need an encore presentation. At most, she would do her due diligence and stick around, then she would leave without a word. She knew some would’ve preferred it that way.

* * *

Once Kya and Lin announced their departure, the lingering guests left as well. Asami wasted no time getting the rest of the house back in order. She bounced back and forth between the upstairs and downstairs. There wasn’t much to clean, but it kept her busy, and it was much better than listening to everyone else pray tell about the upcoming festivities.

She grabbed a couple of leftover materials she brought in with her (thinking they’d make good for a future art project) and took them out to her car. Only three were left in the driveway: hers, Opal’s, and surprisingly Tenzin’s still. Pema and the kids were already in the car and waved to Asami once they saw her. She waved back, but then her eyes caught the two figures standing down near the sidewalk.

Korra and Tenzin were engrossed in what appeared to be another serious conversation. Though, Korra’s mouth pulled downward into a deep frown as she listened to Tenzin speak. With the car running, Asami could barely hear anything, but as she continued to stare, Korra’s look grew more aggrieved by the second until she snapped.

“Forget it then!” she inflected and turned toward the house, but then Tenzin stopped her.

“Just listen!” he told her, still exuding patience despite Korra’s outburst. His voice lowered again to his normal tone, so Asami couldn’t hear him. But from the look on Korra’s face, nothing he said seemed calming or reassuring. As a result, Korra huffed and folded her arms. She breathed through her nose and then said something in an equally quieter tone. Asami watched Tenzin’s face for social cues instead and saw his brows crease together, forming a saddened expression. When he offered no response, Korra walked off, ignoring Asami as she passed and not looking back even when Tenzin called out to her.

Asami stood there awkwardly, puzzled by the interaction. She’d seen earlier what Korra looked like when she was frustrated, but she hadn’t seen her look so angry before.

After Korra entered the house and closed the door, Tenzin’s shoulders sagged and he went to the car, his head lowered in disappointment.

“Have a good night Asami,” he told her, despite not looking her way.

“Yeah… Later, Tenzin.”

The SUV drove off a minute later and Asami worried her lip. Whatever the issue, it seemed pretty serious. Once again, she told herself that she didn’t need to know. If Korra wanted to talk about it, then she would have earlier when Asami asked, or she would’ve done so with her actual friends.

Though… would it have really hurt Asami to ask again? A lot of the times she would need to be asked more than once about her troubles. She could afford to extend that same level of courtesy to Korra. Pull her aside, maybe—unless she went back up to the room she isolated herself in earlier.

But would Korra even want that? And from Asami (aka the woman who gave her the cold shoulder for the most part of the week) of all people?

She stuffed all of the things still filling her hands into the trunk and closed it loudly. After waiting another two minutes outside and allowing her thoughts to settle, she walked back into the house. The round of cheers and laughter from the kitchen jolted her.

The remaining group of four stood around the kitchen island as Opal popped open a bottle of Sangria.

“You’re just in time, Asami,” she said, beckoning her over. “We’re about to do a toast for a job well done, and of course that includes you, too.”

Asami looked around, seeing all of the pleasant and happy faces, including Korra’s.

She stood near Opal, laughing the loudest beside Bolin who looked impatient for Opal to start pouring his glass. None of that anger from five minutes ago showed, and her entire demeanor changed.

Asami wondered if she’d somehow been thrust into _The Twilight Zone._ What the hell was happening? Did she stay outside longer than she intended? Was she really that drunk?

“Uh, no… I think I’ll just head upstairs and lie down,” she said, unable to keep the perplexity out of her tone.

“Oh, nonsense!” Opal said after pouring five glasses and walking over to her. “I know grad students are the first to let loose, so don’t be shy. I’m sure you deserve a night like this.” She handed Asami a glass and then raised hers. “Cheers, everyone!”

Asami watched Korra, Bolin and Mako clink their glasses together and felt Opal’s glass clink against hers, but she still chose not to drink immediately.

“When should we head down to the beach?” Bolin asked.

“Hmm.” Opal tapped her chin. “The party already started, so people should be there, but it’ll take me about 30 minutes to freshen myself up. After that we can go.”

“You’re gonna take forever,” Korra complained.

“That’s funny coming from the girl who didn’t want to go in the first place. What suddenly changed your mind?”

Korra didn’t reply verbally. Instead she shrugged and went back to drinking.

“Asami, you’re coming too, right?” Mako asked.

“I’ll just be here,” Asami said. “I’m only staying because Lin wanted me to house sit and make sure you guys come back in one piece.”

“Seriously?” Opal asked, sounding somewhat offended. “Does my aunt think I’m incapable or something?”

“You’d have to take that up with her. I’ll be upstairs if you need me.”

Asami walked out of the kitchen before anyone else could question her. Already she felt exhausted, and all of the wine in her system didn’t help either. Besides, with what just happened, she had no idea how to process any of it.

She went up to one room and closed the door halfway before flopping on top of the bed.

Had she been right all along? Earlier that week she wrote Korra off as a try-hard, and maybe that was still the case, but it didn’t make her original theory any less true. Everyone had layers, but then there were layers upon layers. She resisted looking deeper into Korra’s all along because she didn’t want to find them. She wanted an easy way out. But just as she reached the point of escape, Korra reeled her back in with all of her complexities.

It made her think back to all of the interactions she had with Korra so far, and she questioned which ones were “real” and the other ones she just played a part. Were _any_ of them real at all?

Of course it didn’t mean that Korra put-on all the time. Asami could tell how much she valued her friends and their company. Those feelings seemed mutual as well, if not more. Her core friends were protective and wanted the best for her, but that should’ve been obvious. The real answers Asami wanted to know were which side of Korra did she show them the most, and if they were even aware of the other side.

Until today, Asami saw—or rather _wanted_ to see—Korra as a free-spirited doer rather than a follower. She had her fun, did what she pleased, and didn’t seem to think too hard about life. That was all she presented herself as, and Asami played right into it. But the denial couldn’t last, and now she found herself questioning why Korra lacked the ability to fully express her true feelings and emotions to her friends.

It reminded Asami of herself in all honesty: seemingly fine, not too outspoken about issues surrounding her, yet often beside herself because of her own choosing.

She continued to mull those thoughts over for the next 20 minutes or so, but then a knock came to the door. She sat up, fixing herself, before telling the person to come in. It annoyed her how hard her heart began to race.

The door opened and Mako came into the room.

“Hey,” he said, closing the door.

Asami released an entire block of air, her stomach actually dropping at the sight of him, but then she immediately felt a wave of guilt. When Mako got close enough to the bed, he stopped and put his hands in his pockets, waiting an elapsed number of seconds. He appeared relaxed, confident even. But seeing his posture only made Asami think of her own charade she’d been pulling with the man since the night they met. She hadn’t done a thing to make him think any less of their cataclysmal situation.

“Hey,” she said finally and stood up, wrapping her arms around herself. “Listen, Mako. You should know that I—”

She didn’t have time to finish the rest of her sentence, because Mako’s mouth and hands were on her. A quiet gasp left her mouth as she felt the pressure of his lips and the way his tongue coaxed her mouth open. He was gentle—shy at first—but then growing bolder when Asami didn’t push him away.

Asami’s thoughts, already jumbled from the wine, became fuzzy and incoherent. Her eyes squeezed shut and her nails dug into her arms as she tried to will herself to feel something; to want it just as much as Mako did. When that didn’t work, she imagined what she wanted it to feel like, and what she imagined unnerved her so much that she jerked away.

Unfortunately, just as she did, the door opened again. She pushed Mako away completely.

“Oh, sorry,” Korra said, her eyes widening at the scene—however much she saw—and taking a step back. “We were… going to leave in 10, but we can just leave without you, Mako, if, uh, you’d rather stay here, too.”

Mako cleared his throat. “Sorry, yeah, I’ll be right there. Thanks, Korra.”

Korra nodded, looking between them both again, her eyes holding Asami’s longer. The corner of her mouth twitched, and then she walked out of the room.

“Fuck,” Asami whispered, bringing her face into her hands.

“It’ll be fine,” Mako reassured her, although he sounded amused. “Korra won’t say anything. Trust me, I’ve caught her in similar situations multiple times.”

“No, that’s not—Never mind.” Asami pinched the bridge of her nose and started toward the door. A headache of epic proportions sat on the corner of her brain now. How did she allow all of this to get so messy so fast?

If only for a few minutes, she wanted to get Korra alone and just explain herself, apologize. Granted, Mako was the one who kissed her, but it didn’t matter. She didn’t want to look like a liar after already going on the record as not wanting to get in the middle of whatever the situation was between him and Korra. She also had no idea where Korra’s mind went after her earlier reveal of her and Mako’s past relationship. Did she have feelings for Mako still? Or was it the thought of someone else having him that drove her into a pit of jealousy?

Her steps hesitated, and at the same time her brain froze when trying to think of an explanation to give Korra of what she saw. What could she say? How in God’s name was she supposed to rationalize something like this when she couldn’t explain it to herself?

“Hey, wait—” she heard from behind her and then felt Mako’s hand on her shoulder. “Don’t you think we should—”

“No.” Asami stopped and turned. “I’m sorry, Mako, but no. I’m… What just happened shouldn’t have happened. _None_ of this should’ve happened.”

To her own ears it sounded cruel, and watching Mako look down in embarrassment and scratch his head made her insides queasy.

“Right. That’s my bad then. Sorry.”

He walked past her and headed down the stairs.

Asami sighed and put her back against the nearby wall, banging her head against it for a few seconds while inhaling and exhaling deeply. She was officially 2 for 2 on being the biggest asshole on the planet.

Neither Mako nor Korra were the people she could blame for this. She stood on a platform of denial knowing very well how many holes she burrowed into it. She sunk herself.

A minute later, she pulled herself together and went downstairs. She found Opal and Bolin standing there in the front room getting the last of their things together. Mako purchased himself on the couch, not looking pissed off per se, but rather in deep thought.

“You’re coming after all, Asami?” Opal asked, her eyes bright with excitement.

“Uh, yeah. Where’s Korra?”

“She got a head start. Said she wanted to scope out the party and see how good the waves are. Knowing her she’ll start mingling and forget all about us.”

“Oh, trust me. She couldn’t forget you even if she wanted to,” Bolin said sardonically and then yelped when Opal hit him on the shoulder. “Ow!”

Asami felt more alert and awake than she’d been 30 minutes ago, but she expected that to go along with her state of contrition. Kissing Mako in the midst of her impediment toward building trust with Korra for this stupid project only hindered her progress even further. She knew better, and she should’ve stopped it before it ever got that far.

“Come on, guys, let’s get going,” Mako said, cutting into Opal and Bolin’s bickering. He got up and headed to the door, opening it and allowing everyone else to go out ahead of him, although he kept his eyes lowered when Asami walked by.

Asami followed behind the group, half-heartedly listening to their excitement. They were on the beach already but getting to the party took an extra 15 minutes since it was located over near the Pier. Asami didn’t visit the popular beaches often (she much preferred the “hidden” ones), and seeing the overcrowded streets elevated her burgeoning anxiety. She tried her best to brush it aside for the time being.

The sun only just set when they arrived, but the party was in full swing with dancing, beach volleyball and various other activities. Lanterns, fake torches, and more decorations were set out, drawing more attention to the scene. It was a decent crowd, but not as big as Asami feared, however, she just knew if Zhu Li found out she attended a party without her (despite it never being in Asami’s plans to begin with) that she would have her neck wrung for the next several weeks.

Opal led them over to a group of five people who were sitting in some chairs, watching the volleyball game and drinking discreetly from red cups filled with beer. Asami listened and watched Opal, Mako, and Bolin greet their other friends, but she quickly grew antsy.

“You guys haven’t seen Korra, have you?” Opal asked a minute later.

“Yeah, she’s out there,” one girl said, pointing toward the ocean. “A couple of people went out to catch some waves and swim around. She got here just as they were headed out.”

Asami looked over, and, just as the stranger said, she saw a small group not too far out, surfing, swimming, and splashing around. She squinted for a moment, trying to see as the light outside grew more dim. Eventually she found Korra breaking through the surface and coming up for air. But she wasn’t alone. Two men floated nearby, one of them taking back the surfboard Korra loaned, and the other swam up close to Korra, grabbing her by the waist and playfully dunking her even as she “pleaded” for mercy.

“So typical,” Opal said, chuckling. She started removing her sandals, skirt and shirt to reveal her green bathing suit underneath. “Bo, you coming?”

“Sure,” Bolin said and removed his shirt. “What about you guys?” He looked at Asami and Mako.

“I’m okay,” Mako said. Asami quietly echoed the same reply, but her mind went elsewhere.

“Suit yourselves,” Bolin said and grabbed Opal by the waist, lifting her over one shoulder and barreling toward the ocean with her yelling and laughing in hysteria.

“I think there’s a blanket in here,” Mako said a few seconds later, searching through the bag Opal handed off to him. “We could sit down if you want.”

His awkward body language and how he continued to refuse to meet Asami’s eyes made her feel even worse than she already did.

“Sure,” she said.

They walked farther out on the beach and sat down a couple of yards away from the incoming tide. Mako politely set out the large blanket and let Asami sit first before sitting down himself, putting a reasonable amount of space between them. The swishing current provided comfort if only for a few minutes.

Asami brought her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. Although it grew darker outside, tones of blue and purple colored the clear sky, along with the silver light illuminating from the full moon. She could see Korra clearly, happily waving over Bolin and Opal as they approached, but at the same time the man she drew closest to told her something—a joke apparently from the way Korra tilted her head back, laughing as she touched him on one of his large biceps.

“Always the impetuous one, isn’t she?” Mako said. When Asami looked his way, she saw him watching the scene playing out in front of them as well. “Been that way since the day I met her.”

“How long has that been?”

“Going on two years now. Bolin met her and Opal at this kegger. I still remember the first time he brought them over to our apartment. I tried to ignore them and let them do their own thing, but no one warned me beforehand that when you’re in Korra’s presence, she’ll grab your attention one way or the other.”

Asami’s chest tightened, an unexpected sense of loneliness overwhelming her. In fact, it made her want to go find the nearest blank canvas and vomit up all of her stupid feelings. It would be way better than torturing herself with what she was currently forced to watch.

“Ever think there’s a reason for that?” she asked.

Mako shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ve never tried to guess what’s going on in Korra’s head, but she’s never been shy. Always vocal and standing up for others, albeit neglecting herself in the process. But it’s nice to see her having fun these days. She deserves it after the year she’s had.”

Asami pursed her lips together, a few questions forming at the tip of her tongue due to Mako’s brief description, but she held back. He couldn’t give her insight to what she really wanted to know, and it would’ve unknowingly been unfair to him in a way if she asked. However, once she took her focus off the latter part of his sentence, she received another kick to the stomach. So that’s all Korra was doing then? Having fun these days? In retrospect, it made sense and explained her actions. After all, she was young, at the peak of her undergrad years, and not thinking too much about her next steps toward adulthood. Plus, having to bench sit on a sports team she once dominated for almost a year now most likely gave her some perspective. She didn’t have time to be worried about trivial situations. Asami only wished she figured that out sooner.

She glanced over at Mako again.

“About what happened… I’m sorry. I think I might have given you the wrong idea.”

“No, I’m the one who’s sorry,” Mako said, shaking his head. “I assumed, and that’s a bad thing to do in a situation like that.”

“Yeah, but I could’ve said something sooner. My verbal cues are sort of a mess right now.”

“This wouldn’t have anything to do with Korra, would it?”

“Wha–What do you mean?” Asami’s heart began to race.

“You heard we briefly dated, right?”

“Oh,” she relaxed. “Yeah. Korra told me earlier today.”

Mako nodded. “So did you think it’d be awkward with us, especially with this project you’re working on with her?”

Asami blinked at the question. She hadn’t linked the two things together until now, but it provided the perfect excuse. She opened her mouth to agree and then stopped herself. That guilt from earlier returned in her gut and it intensified even further. The words she died to let fly off her tongue lost their power, leaving her with a sad, bitter truth.

“No,” she admitted with a sigh, and she saw Mako turn to her in question. “It’s not that. I’m just a bitch.”

“Hey, no you’re not,” Mako said roughly and placed a hand on her back. “You shouldn’t say that about yourself.”

His comfort made Asami feel a thousand times shittier.

“I am,” she said. “Because you’re such a nice guy and you were so good to me that night and today, but… I don’t know. Something’s wrong with _me._ I’m just not…”

“Attracted to me?” Mako assumed when she didn’t finish.

Asami looked away, back to the water where she saw Korra on top of the man’s shoulders now, engaging in a game of chicken with Bolin and Opal.

“No…” she whispered. “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize. I’m not upset.”

“You aren’t?”

Mako shrugged. “Sure, the ego’s a little bruised, but I shot my shot and that’s it. Besides, I’ll always have that night to remember you by.”

“It wasn’t that memorable, was it?” Asami asked, a little embarrassed.

“It always amazes me when attractive women such as yourself don’t realize their attractiveness. Or you guys do realize it but play it down so that you don’t look too conceited.”

“Brace yourself. We only get more complicated after that.”

“Trust me, I’m prepared,” Mako said, sitting back on his hands. “Although, it _would_ ease my mind if I knew my kissing wasn’t the worst you’ve experienced in your life.”

Asami giggled. “It’s not. You’re pretty good, actually.”

“Phew! That’s good to know.” Mako wiped a nonexistent bead of sweat off his forehead.

Smiling, Asami looked around the beach again. As she scoped out the place in full, she realized how much she didn’t belong there. She’d only come for one purpose anyway, and it seemed that those efforts were wasted. Korra didn’t need her apology apparently. She was busy having too much “fun.”

Just then, the loud noise of a megaphone turned on from behind her and a man’s voice came out of it.

“Everyone make way for the goddess of the ocean!” he drunkenly shouted. “Holy _fuck_ , Korra, you are not allowed to _ever_ put clothes on again.”

A few others agreed, yelling in unison.

Asami’s teeth ground together when she looked forward and discovered Korra coming out of the water, her body dripping and glistening in her blue and white striped bikini. It showed a significant amount of cleavage, and the sides of the trunks were held together by two thin ties.

There were more whistles and comments of praise thrown at her, to which she laughed off as she squeezed the excess water out of her loose hair and then let it hang off one shoulder.

“Oh geez, like she needs the ego boost,” Mako said with a laugh.

Asami’s stomach twisted into an unforgiving knot, and her hands coiled in her lap until she could feel her nails digging into her palms. But despite the level of anger she emitted, Korra walked right by them and didn’t glance her way once. The guy she’d been with tagged close behind as well, being very obvious with the fact that he was ogling Korra’s backside. She had several other people’s attention even, but she didn’t acknowledge it directly. Her smug expression, however, told Asami almost everything.

Korra fed off of having all eyes on her, but it didn’t give her total satisfaction. While smug, she showed no signs of fulfillment. In fact, where everybody else, including her friends, saw completion, Asami saw emptiness. So why did Korra allow it? What forced her into this role of serving as nothing more than an object to those whose attention she probably didn’t even want in the first place? Whose attention _did_ she want?

And, as much as she didn’t want to care, where did Asami fall on that totem pole?

“You all right?” Mako asked when she hadn’t said anything in a while.

Asami looked at him and saw the concern in his eyes. She further wished for her attraction to him the week before to reappear. _He_ wouldn’t have caused her problems, nor would she have been so knee-deep in the trenches of her own self-hatred.

“Yeah,” she said, giving a faint smile and then got up. “I think I’m just gonna head back to the house now.”

“Really?” Mako asked. “We just got here.”

“Yeah, I know. I only came out for a little bit of fresh air anyway.”

“Are you sure? Here, I can walk you back.” He tried to get up.

“No, I’ll be fine,” Asami stopped him. “You have a good time. Maybe find a hotter woman to kiss.”

“Heh, I don’t know,” Mako said, scratching his head. “They’ve got some pretty big shoes to fill.”

Asami smiled down at him one last time and then waved. She headed back up the beach and through the party, having to walk right by the large group of onlookers still watching the volleyball game.

“Oh, are you leaving so soon?”

Asami stopped in her tracks and turned. Korra stood not too far off with a drink in her hand, the arm of her new “friend” wrapped comfortably around her. She offered another one of those obnoxious fake smiles, and it irritated Asami even further. Showing it wasn’t an option, though. That would’ve given Korra the impression that she “won” in whatever twisted game she was playing.

“Yes,” she said coolly, meeting her gaze with a glare. “I’ve seen all I needed to see. Have a good night.”

She turned right back around and walked off. At that point she just hoped she was walking in the right direction because she couldn’t even see straight.

All of her thoughts from earlier, her rationalization, her attempt to understand—it all became lost. Something inside her snapped. Whether it was Korra’s insouciance or the people she surrounded herself with, Asami thought she would lose her mind at any second.

Getting back to the beach house felt like a shorter trip. She kept the lights off and walked into the living room, sitting down on the couch and putting her face into her hands.

How much more could she let herself be treated like an idiot? She should’ve trusted her instincts; not let herself get too wrapped up in the nuance this project had to offer like Kya wanted her to. She liked being in control of her emotions at all times, a trait she shared with both of her parents. To have control of emotions meant you were impenetrable, resilient, untouchable. Asami didn’t inherit that right away. Instead she learned the hard way that trusting people with those deep, damning emotions could put you in a world of hurt. After realizing that, she relied on her paper and brush, and up until now that sufficed.

These past few weeks were a test, both creatively and metaphorically. At the end of the day the subject matter proved to be too difficult, and she would have to live with Kya’s disappointment. She couldn’t see this through to the end and she didn’t want to anymore. She wouldn’t.

After spending a long time on the couch stewing, she got up and went to grab her things because fuck it. She was sober enough to drive now. Plus, Opal always seemed responsible enough to her, and Mako appeared to be the most level-headed and not as party crazy as the rest. They could get home just fine without needing a babysitter.

She grabbed her keys and the leftovers in the fridge, but she had trouble finding her purse. For a few minutes she searched the first floor of the house in irritation before remembering she’d taken it up to one of the rooms with her.

She walked toward the steps and was just about to go up when she heard the front door open. At first she sighed, thinking it was Mako coming to check on her, but when she turned around and saw Korra standing there, she stopped.

Korra had her back against the door and arms behind her back. She stared at the ground and didn’t say anything, nor did she move. Asami tried not to glower but ended up failing.

“Did you leave something here?” she asked when the silence dragged.

Korra looked up finally and stared at her from across the room. “No,” she answered.

“Okay, well, I’ll be out of here soon. I’m sure that’s what you want anyway.”

Asami started up the steps.

“What’s the hurry? Were you not having fun?” Korra called out, her tone sounding the slightest bit condescending.

Again, Asami stopped and turned in her direction.

“What the hell is the matter with you?” she asked.

“Me? Nothing.”

“Oh, sure. Of course not,” Asami uttered sarcastically. “My mistake.”

Korra’s eyes darkened. Within a split second, that altered persona of hers switched off for the first time since her argument with Tenzin.

“What? Are you mad that for once the shoe is on the other foot in terms of mood swings?” Korra asked, her voice deepening.

A small but apparent spark spread through Asami’s core at that cold stare, thus adding more to her confusion and mixed emotions. It didn’t help either that Korra stood there in only that tiny bikini top with a towel wrapped around her waist, and it was also because of that that it took a second longer for Asami to react and shut down Korra’s incessant taunting.

“I’m not doing this with you, and clearly you’ve had too much to drink tonight. Sober up and then maybe we can talk about this next week.”

Wanting the conversation to end there, she briskly headed up the stairs. The night already turned into a shitshow. She wasn’t going to add dealing with a drunk Korra on her list of problems.

She found her purse sitting on the bed in the room and grabbed it. From behind, she heard footsteps approaching the door.

“You really think that’s fair?” Korra asked as she walked into the room. “It’s either your way or no way, right?”

“In this situation, yes,” Asami said, pretending to search for something in her purse.

“I’m perfectly able to speak my mind and hold a conversation,” Korra said hotly.

Asami snorted and turned. “Then why don’t you go back to the beach and do that with your new friend? Or maybe call up the girl you were so enthusiastically making out with at the bar last week? Obviously you have your hands full with people giving you attention, so you don’t really need mine.”

Korra paused, her eyebrows pinched together in confusion, but after dissembling Asami’s words, a cruddy look muddled her face.

“Like you have room to talk given how much you’ve been clinging on to Mako all night. I thought the two of you would’ve much rather spent some more alone time here together.”

“Nothing happened.”

“I know what I saw. So much for not wanting to ‘be low,’ right?”

“I hate to break it to you, but _he_ kissed _me_ ,” Asami emphasized, leaning forward. “It was a misunderstanding and we talked about it already. I haven’t ‘stolen’ him from you or anything if that’s what you’re worried about. You can keep him safely tucked away in your pocket along with whoever else.”

“Is that your polite way of calling me a whore?”

“What? No, of course not!” Asami practically yelled in incredulity.

“Then you’re either being facetious, or you really just don’t get it.”

“What’s there to get? You like attention and anyone who will give it. Good for you.”

Korra’s lips twisted up into a smirk and she slowly stepped forward.

“You sound a little bitter.”

“I’m not.”

Korra ignored her denial. “Maybe it’s because you can’t stand the fact that for either of those times my attention wasn’t on _you_ for once.”

Noticing just how close Korra came to her, Asami stepped back.

“Get over yourself,” she fumbled out. “I couldn’t care less who you’re interested in.”

“I think you do. In fact, I  _ know  _ that you do,” Korra said, approaching slowly, like a prowling cat. Her barely covered body swayed, and a few water marks dripped down the curve of her breasts due to her wet soaked hair. “You really don’t think I haven’t noticed the way you watch me? The way you haven’t been able to stop looking at me all day? All of the stolen glances? Or how, whenever we’re in the studio, you watch me while I get dressed when you think I can’t see…”

Asami’s heart pounded like a jackhammer at the way Korra’s voice continued to deepen. The overwhelming pressure from the heat in her model’s eyes set her ablaze as she continued to back away. When her knees met the bedframe and she had nowhere else to go, she chose to avert her gaze.

“It’s all in your head,” she managed to get out.

Korra’s fingers came underneath her chin and Asami released a shudder when she felt a pair of lips brush against her cheek as Korra leaned forward and whispered.

“I already told you that you’re drivin’ me crazy. I’ve been pretty obvious where I stand with this entire situation. Sure, I like attention, but I’ve never _craved_ it as much as I do with you. I’ve never fantasized so much about having another person’s hands on me, touchin’ me everywhere, _controlling_ me. _Oh_ , the dreams I’ve had…”

Asami closed her eyes and quivered when Korra sighed against her cheek. Then a hand pressed against the small of her back to draw her in even closer. That touch triggered her to think about her own dreams these past couple of weeks, the ones she’d try to block out the minute she woke up the next day, only to find it impossible due to her wet-soaked panties. Her slippery folds throbbing and desperate for her own hand—for _Korra’s_ hand.

“You could have me right now. I’d let you,” Korra continued and forced Asami’s chin to turn. “You’ve got me in the palm of your hands and all you have to do is act on it.”

Their faces came inches apart and Asami felt Korra’s breath tickling against her lips, as well as her fiery gaze. She refused to open her eyes, but everything she’d been fighting so hard against slowly swung toward a losing battle.

She began to inch forward, but just as their lips barely brushed, Korra said something so simple, yet so galvanic.

“But you won’t.”

When the warmth surrounding her disappeared, Asami finally opened her eyes. She saw Korra standing a few feet away from her with her arms folded, a smirk on her face. For a while Asami could only stare, but when the realization struck her, a pool of rage unleashed.

A joke. That was all Korra saw her as.

“Fuck you,” she said icily and made a beeline for the door. “Whatever game this is you’re playing, I’m no longer a part of it.”

“It’s not your game. That’s why you don’t wanna play,” Korra accused.

Asami whirled around, unwilling to hold back any longer.

“If anything, I’ve been playing right into you this entire time, thinking you were actually being honest about anything, but no. You’re just a liar. And you may have everyone else fooled, but I’m certainly not.”

“And what exactly does that mean?” Korra said, meeting Asami with a challenging gaze, giving her another dare to say something— _do_ something.

Asami searched her eyes for a second, uncertain of how far either of them would go in this vehement bout of cat and mouse.

“This person… this _mask_ you put on… That’s all it is,” Asami said, walking forward. “None of those people out there know who you really are, but you let them believe that they do. And maybe that’s because you’re afraid that the person they’ll really see won’t be liked as much, or at all.”

Korra chuckled darkly. “So none of those people know me, but all of a sudden _you_ do? Is that what I’m getting out of this?”

“You’re the one who started it by acting like you know me. You’re just getting a taste of your own medicine,” Asami replied unapologetically.

“Oh, I do know who you are. You’re about as easy to read as a children’s picture book,” Korra said, getting close to Asami’s face again. “Let’s make one thing clear: You could draw a thousand pictures of my body, but you’ll never be able to reach inside and know what I’m feeling. You don’t allow yourself to because that would mean you’d also have to show a side of yourself that maybe  _ you _ don’t like. This anger and torture you’re feeling has nothing to do with me and everything to do with the fact that you hold yourself back from what you really want. And that’s exactly why this project of yours won’t go anywhere.”

Korra left the room, brushing right by Asami, who stood there in a mix of rage, shock, and embarrassment. Korra’s words cut deep into several of Asami’s layers that had already been sliced through before. But this time, the knife effortlessly reached the one relatively untouched piece that would either have Asami crumbling to the floor in a mess, or acting on complete impulse—shredding any last bit of string that attached her to common sense.

She strode out of the room, her steps wider and faster than Korra’s, who only just made it down the hall to the steps. When Asami grabbed her by the arm and spun her around, Korra turned willingly, prepared for another confrontation; her mouth opening to release another round of jabs.

Asami stopped her with her own mouth.

It started as a clash, neither of their mouths prepared for the harsh impact, causing both of them to groan in pain. But at the same time, it was one of the most gratifying feelings Asami had in a while. Korra’s hands came up to her shoulders—making Asami think she’d be pushed away at first—but then they glided up until they cupped Asami’s neck. Pulling back slightly, Korra attempted to control the tumultuous kiss by allowing their lips to release some of the pressure, and as a result, a needy moan left her mouth.

Once Asami started, she lost herself and threw all logic out of the window. Her mouth ravaged Korra’s, one hand weaving through the back of her wet strands and the other wrapping around her waist. Korra’s lips were as soft and velvet and succulent as the way she drew them, and her slick tongue just made the experience even better than Asami previously imagined. A dam burst inside her after years and years of small leaks and threats of combustion. But the intensity of which it happened exceeded anything she could’ve expected by far.

Hearing another scrumptious moan leave Korra’s mouth made Asami’s chest rumble, sparking what sounded like a growl from her chest. She grabbed Korra by the wrists and forced them to walk backward until her back hit the wall across the hallway with a loud  _ thump! _ Her mouth continued to show no mercy or slow down, but Korra held her own even with her wrists gripped tightly. In fact, she seemed to enjoy Asami’s enraged passion, happy to have gotten her way, if the soft exclamations of “yes” and “finally!” that left her lips in between kisses said anything. 

Asami broke apart from Korra, causing their lips to smack. Rather than come up for air, she spun them around until it was Korra pressed up against the wall. Then she went for Korra’s neck, sucking and nibbling as her hands kept going everywhere. They went up and down Korra’s arms, to her angular waist, and then boldly around until she clenched a handful of soft, round ass cheeks. Korra’s towel fell off somewhere in between. 

Sharp gasps left the undergrad’s mouth, her pulse racing fast in her wrists, and uncontrollable shivers quaking through her whenever Asami touched her somewhere new. She willingly lifted her leg and Asami grabbed for it, wrapping it firmly around her waist and bringing their pelvises together for the first time. The minute Korra began to roll her hips, it caused an interesting noise to leave Asami in an instant: a combination of a whine and a moan.

_ “Oh, Asami…”  _ Korra said, sounding breathless, hazy, and so  _ feminine.  _ Her hands came between their joined fronts and she began to unbutton Asami’s shorts.

The minute she heard her zipper going down, Asami’s logic snapped back into place and she stopped, though her lips still remained attached to Korra’s neck.

“What is it?” Korra panted, sensing Asami’s disinclination but still sounding in a state of delirium.

When she heard Korra’s voice again, Asami pulled all the way back. She stared at Korra with wide eyes and her mouth open with harsh breaths coming out. The horror of her actions set her mind spiraling into a hollow hole of disgust.

_Why? **How?**_

“Asami, w—”

Before Korra could start, Asami turned and ran down the flight of steps, across the living room, and out the door. Once she jumped into her car, she jammed her key into the ignition and drove off in a frenzy.

“What did I do, what did I do?” she repeated to herself probably a thousand times as she drove. At the same time, she saw flashes of those moments, heard the sounds that left both of their mouths, felt the heat between her thighs and the feeling of Korra’s hand reaching into her still unbuttoned and partially unzipped shorts.

The images flooded her vision to the point where she had to pull off to the side of the road.

At any other time, the hum of the engine would’ve comforted her. Instead, she gripped the wheel and let out an anguished cry, her head bowing forward until it hit the wheel.

Any hope of getting a firm grip on herself slithered away. No longer could she escape her shameful truth.


End file.
